Promontory
by Sarah Liza Parker
Summary: In a universe where the events of series four never occurred with Rose, she and her family holiday in Broadchurch in order to help Rose cope with her demons.
1. Prologue

_Listen to: "Main Theme" by Ólafur Arnalds or "Altering Lives" by Murray Gold_

* * *

 _But since it falls unto my lot_

 _That I should rise and you should not_

 _I'll gently rise and I'll softly call_

 _Good night and joy be with you all_

"The Parting Glass"

* * *

 _ **Prologue**_

* * *

Whenever she thought, and she really tried, and she really strained, and she really attempted, she could see him. Like a foggy night, his face was blurred and the lines were faded, but he was there. His unkempt hair and his brown eyes; his ridiculous sideburns and fantastic grin. And then it'd wash away, muddled with all of the other faces she'd seen over her lifetime. So, she'd focus on his voice. Low, steady (unless he was rambling on about the Tardis or the Ood or something of the sort), accented in all of the right places. And then she'd realise that maybe she was getting Pete and his voice confused and she'd throw her pillow across her room because he'd left her with nothing that let her see his face. Only the fading memories of the two of them, and some hacked up projection on a beach in bloody Norway. And, oh, she was so cross with him! How could he leave her there?! So the universe would split into two and everything would be for nothing, but she wanted to know he tried! That he didn't just give up and bloody walk away! He was never a coward, unless it was facing his feelings about Rose. She knew he loved her, and he never told her. He left her standing there, without those words she'd always wanted to hear.

#

Then, she'd realised it was her fault. It was her fault that she'd let go of that bloody pipe and flew into Pete's arms. It was her fault she was stuck in a universe with no trace of the Doctor or anything remotely Time Lord.

Jake Simmonds had come up with the technology for the dimension cannon, and it had worked. It had worked so well that Mickey had gotten stuck in the exact place she'd wanted to be.

She had screamed so much—in anguish that that wasn't _her_. That _Mickey_ got to live _her_ life. That cannons had become even more-so unreliable that Jake had refused to let her test them anymore, refusing to repair the ones they had, and she was so cross, and so bloody tired. Each brief second she spent in her original world before being sucked back into her imprisonment was so cruel.

She hated Mickey. He stole what was hers.

All of her hope.

#

And when she slept, she had no dreams. No dreams of a blue police box, no dreams of running ever-so fast.

That little orange bottle was so important to her, and Jackie and Pete never knew. She had kept it locked in her cupboard, until one day she awoke at the hospital and there were so many bright lights and odd faces. Her mouth felt like it had been scrubbed with cotton swabs and her eyes Rose," her mum sobbed, "I knew it was bad, but never _this_. Oh, God, please help her. Help my child." were watering from the burning of the whiteness.

"Oh

What did she do? _They_ had moved her from her bed. All she wanted was sleep. All she wanted were no more bad dreams.

#

"Rose, where would you want to be, in the whole world, if that were possible?" the lady with the white coat asked her as they both sat on her uncomfortable bed in a room half the size of her old one.

"With the Doctor."

"And where's he?" she continued after writing something down on her clipboard.

"Oh…so far away now."

"Can you imagine it in your mind?"

"…I hope that's the only thing I see for the rest of my life."

* * *

 _ **A/N:** I'll be posting about a chapter a day on this story. It'll be 19 chapters (one prologue, 16 chapters, and two epilogues). Hope you all like it._


	2. Chapter 1: Face

_Listen to: "Beth's Theme" by Ólafur Arnalds or "Pretty Face" by Soley_

* * *

 ** _Chapter 1: Face_**

* * *

"You know, this is gonna be nothing like London. No traffic, no smelly rubbish, no rude blokes who take cabs from right under your nose," Jackie rambled from the front seat of their car.

"What's that gonna do for me? There's fucking beaches everywhere," Rose grumbled, looking at side of the motorway as they climbed through the tall cliffs of Broadchurch. Below laid yellow sand and blue surfs, crashing harshly against one another. She locked her jaw and looked away.

"Oi! Language, Rose! Mind Tony, will ya?" her mum turned her upper torso around to glare at Rose and gesture to Rose's brother.

Rose looked over at Tony beside her, who flashed her a mischievous grin. "You know what 'fuck' means don't you Tony? It's something you say when you've lost everything and all you have are words."

"Rose Marion Tyler!" Jackie squawked.

"It's okay, mum, all the boys at school use 'fuck' and stuff," Tony shrugged, nonchalantly.

Jackie gasped and looked at her husband. "Pete! What sort of school do you have our son going to?"

"State-funded, dear, just like you requested," he reminded her, not taking his eyes off of the road.

Rose's mum narrowed her eyes at Pete, but nevertheless gave up in defeat.

"I still don't get why you won't let me stay in London with my mates," Tony wondered, unhappily sighing with his chin resting on the windowsill.

"Because you're not old enough yet," Pete said.

"Well, in _Home Alone_ he stayed home alone," Tony bit back.

Jackie scoffed. "Yeah, and look how well _that_ turned out!"

"I have an even better idea: why couldn't all of us have just stayed home?" Rose said, folding her arms.

"We've just got you back, and you're gonna go wherever we go, and that's final," Jackie replied firmly, looking at Pete for a nod of affirmation (which he did not give, as he was preoccupied tuning out his family and looking at how wonderfully blue the sky was in Broadchurch).

#

"When are you gonna go swim with me, Rosie?" Tony asked in a quiet voice from Rose's doorway.

Rose looked up from her laptop and took her earbuds out of her ears. "What?" she asked, having not heard what he had said.

"Do you wanna go play or something?" he reiterated, worrying about what Rose's answer might be.

"Tony, I've just been feeling kinda…blah, you know?" she shook her head, drawing a hardened line with her mouth.

"But…you've never played with me."

"What? Of course I have. I'm your sister."

"Yeah, but just because you're my sister doesn't mean you've done anything like that. Before you didn't wake up, all you did was work with dad, and never paid any attention to me."

"Tony," she gritted her teeth. "I'm not in the mood. Get out of my room."

"So what?" he cried. "You can go back to making yourself get hurt and having mum and dad worry about you?! I'm sick and tired of you! You've been sad so long, we don't even know why you're sad! _You_ don't even know why you're sad! All I want is for my sister to smile at me! Just once!"

Rose scrambled up from her bed and marched over to where Tony stood, harshly pointing a finger in his face. "You know good and well that mum and I don't belong here! How would you like it if you were in a place where you didn't belong?!"

"Yeah, I do know, because _you_ make sure I know I don't belong! Mum and dad were never supposed to have me! And you were never supposed to be here, and I _get it_! You're cross because you don't belong and you miss that alien bloke of yours! But you take it out on me and that's not fair! Just like you," tears began to roll down Tony's face as he fumbled with the pail and spade in his two hands, "I didn't ask to be here."

Rose covered her face with her hands as she attempted to control herself from screaming in frustration. Then she spoke, muffled: "Tony, I'm so sorry. I didn't—"

Suddenly, she heard a crash! as the pail and spade fell onto the hardwood and felt a pair of soft arms enwrap her waist.

"I can't even see him anymore, and I can't hear him. It's like it never happened. It's like I was never there." Her breathing became quick and shallow as her heart raced out of her chest. Her palms bared down into her eyes.

"Remember what mum said," Tony softly advised, quickly recognizing one of Rose's panic attacks. "Think of the clouds."

And she thought of what they looked like from the Tardis, and she remembered, and everything was normal.

#

"Mum, Pete," Rose announced as she walked into the kitchen holding hands with Tony.

Pete and Jackie sat next to each other at the countertop, reading the local newspaper: _The Echo_. At the sound of Rose's voice they both immediately looked up from their readings in bafflement.

"Rosie? Hi!" her mum smiled widely, unable to curb her enthusiasm at seeing her eldest child out of her room since they had arrived two days ago.

"Me and Tony were gonna go to the beach, if that's alright," she said.

Tony grinned at his mother and father, nodding his head at the progress he had made, all by himself.

Jackie and Pete look at one another with dazed faces. "Yeah…yeah of course," Pete nodded.

"Alright," Rose smiled, "Then we'll be off. Come on, Tony." She began to drag Tony off when Pete suddenly burst up from his seat, digging around in his pocket.

"Hey, hold on you two, let me give you some money for some 99's," Pete said, holding out some of the notes he had grabbed out of his wallet.

Warily, Rose dropped Tony's hand to walk over to Pete and grab the money out of hand. Leafing through it, her head snapped up in shock. "Pete, there's over fifty quid here."

"Yeah, I know. Look through the shops and see if there's anything you or Tony likes while you're out. Have a good time."

She stuck the money in her backpack's side pocket before leaning forward and giving Pete a chaste kiss on the cheek. "Thank you."

"Catch some waves for me, Rosie," he grinned, patting her on the shoulder.

"We'll be back for dinner, then," she bid, giving her mum a brief wave.

Jackie softly waved her hand back. "Bye! Be careful! Don't let your brother out of your sight!"

Rose rolled her eyes as she grabbed Tony's hand once again. "Love you, mum."

"Have fun!" her mum said, Rose and Tony walking out of the room.

Pete turned and looked back at Jackie with a somber look on his face. "Did you see that? It's like she never left."

Jackie swept stray tears out from underneath her eyes. "I'm just afraid she'll leave us again."

#

The cliffs above them cast a shadow over the beach, making the sand cool to the touch. The part of the beach they situated themselves in was a good ways from all of the other goers, making it a close affair for the brother and sister.

"I can never seem to get it," Tony complained with his tongue hanging out of his mouth in concentration. Once again, another mound of sand from his pail collapsed as soon as he let it sit.

Rose looked at him with a mixture of sympathy and amusement. "Here let me try," she offered, abandoning the Tardis she was drawing with her finger along in the sand. She wiped her hands off on her denim pants before kneeling down in front of Tony. "Now, take that pail and go put just a wee bit of ocean water in it."

"Water?" he scrunched up his nose. "What the hell is that gonna do?"

"It's gonna help the sand to stick together, and while you're down there, wash out your mouth too," she chuckled, shaking her head at him.

He hung his head as he picked up the pail. "Sorry, Rose."

"Go on, then," she smiled, gesturing to the water in front of her.

He ran off, racing down to the gentle waves and splashing through the shallow water.

She noticed how he rapidly plunged through the water. "Oi! Be careful, Tony! This isn't a race, you know!" she fretted.

While he dipped his pail in the water that lapped around his waist, Rose fiddled with her bikini straps and craned her neck to admire the towering face of the bluffs. Nice gusts of placid air travelled down from them, rustling the hairs that didn't quite reach inside of the bun on top of her head.

It was so much prettier than Norway, yet still so still.

#

DI Alec Hardy sat at the desk in his office when DS Ellie Miller rapped on his open door.

"Oi, Hardy, can I have a minute with ya? We've got a new pending case." She tapped the thin case file absentmindedly on her thigh.

"Just a tick, Miller, I've almost through with this," he sighed, typing at an excruciatingly slow rate on his computer.

"Stevens," she said.

"What?" he asked, not lifting his eyes off of his screen.

"Stevens. I changed it this morning before coming here."

That seemed to get his attention, as he flipped his head to look at her. "Did you really?"

"As according to Wessex Crown Court, my name is now legally Ellie Stevens again."

Hardy scrunched up his nose. "Does that mean I've got to start calling you 'Stevens' now?"

She shrugged. "I dunno, what do you want to call me?"

"I dunno, I don't really think about it that much, you know," he said.

"Then, I guess just call me whatever pops into that small noggin of yours," she teased.

"Alright, then," he stood up from his desk. "What's the case go on about then?"

The two detectives met in the middle of the room, Ellie holding the file out to him. Hardy began to look through it, reading the paperwork and studying the pictures. "We've had three reports of shoplifting in the span of the last two weeks at that newsagent shop that was previously owned by Jack Marshall."

He flipped back and forth between forms. "So, Angela Bradbury owns it now, then?"

"Yeah, and she's not entirely happy. I've tried to convince her to get CCTV or something of the sort, and she's adamant that she trusts her neighbours, and that it's _our_ job to catch the theft."

"So, what's he nicking? Cigarettes? Pregnancy tests?" he asked, naming off some of the most commonly thieved items.

"No, sweets."

Hardy's head snapped up. "Sweets?"

"Well," she shrugged. "Really it's only Jelly Babies."

Slapping the file shut, he began to flop it around the air for emphasis. "Oh, you've got to be shitting me! Jelly Babies, for Christ's sake! What does she want us to do? Release the hounds for the red-handed tike?!"

"Look, I know it's silly, but all we really need to do is take a trip down to the shop, tell her that we're taking it seriously and then throw the case away."

Hardy took his fingers and pressed them down on his forehead, letting the folder flop to his side. "I cannot believe I stayed for this."

She crossed her arms. "It's better than the shite we've put up with before."

"And yet, I'm half-tempted to barge into the shop, give her the three quid, and call it a day."

"Hardy, you're a prat."

"Sod off already so we can go."

#

Rose and Tony walked along the town's shops, each holding a dripping 99. Tony's pail and spade hung at Rose's side from the straps on her backpack. Their clothes were already dry from their time on the beach from the sun, but sand still clung to their shoes.

"This tastes way better than the stuff back home," Tony grinned, with monkey's blood smeared across his cheek.

"It's only 'cause of the salt water," she said.

He thought about it for a moment before saying: "Yeah, you're probably right."

Rose looked over at her brother and smiled, feeling exultant at how well the day had gone. She had spent, for the first time she could remember, the entirety of a whole day without once feeling completely miserable about herself. Sure, she'd thought about how the Doctor would have thrown her into the water and she would have dunked his head under and she would have snogged the life out of him without worrying about the consequences like she always had before. But, all of those thoughts were happy and put a smile on her face, instead of driving her to the space between her mattress and her blanket.

"I don't know why my friends always complain about their siblings. 'Cause, I love mine, and I know what it's like not to have 'em," he rambled in all seriousness, glancing up at Rose for a reaction.

Their eyes met and she halted her walking, making Tony eventually stop also. "I'll try to never leave you again, you know that Tony, right?"

"You'll try?" he frowned before taking a huge gobble of his cone.

"Tony, I of all people should know you never make promises. Not even if you think you can keep them."

"But, can't you make a promise to me? I'm your brother!"

She sighed, "I-, I don't know." Rose turned to look at the shop they currently stood in front of. It had closed early, but in the darkened display window sat clothed mannequins wearing what looked like boutique clothing. "Hey, you think mum would like to stop by here one day?"

Tony shrugged and looked away, his good mood having been spoiled. "Maybe, I guess."

"She's always in the mood for shopping, isn't she?"

He didn't answer, staring blankly at the pavement beside him.

"I remember one Christmas," she giggled, "All of these plastic mannequins came to life, and scared the daylights outta mum. She swore never to shop in a store full of mannequins again."

"Is that another story about him, then?" he murmured, looking up.

Rose turned around and gave him a muted stare. "Those are the only stories worth telling."

"None of your stories ever mention me, then?"

"Well, the Doctor never got to know you," she quickly snapped without ration.

Tony shook his head and glared at her. "Mum and dad were right. You are dead on the inside. Even on the beach today. That wasn't really you, was it? Your smiles aren't real because nothing about you is real. You're a zombie, Rose. And you wish you could have died that day, don't you?"

Numb, Rose cannot even feel the impact his words have on her, or should have on her. "Tony," her voice cracked, "Don't say something like that. Especially around mum and Pete."

"And you still call him Pete! He's both of our dads! Mum told me if a doctor looked, they'd see we were all a family, even though you and her are from super far away! I see that, and I'm only eight, but _you_ can't see that!"

"When I grew up," she flared, "I didn't have a dad like you! Pete didn't raise me, because in my world he didn't!"

"Daddy raised you! He helped you after you got out of the hospital! He helped you when all you ever did was sleep in your bathroom! He helped you when you ran away and couldn't find your way back home! He loves you just like other daddy did! Because he is other daddy! He's both of them! We're his second chance family and you treat him so bad it makes mummy cry!"

She cruelly pointed a finger down into his face. "Oi! That's not fair! I've had a lot of shite going on in my life!"

"Yeah, it's _never_ fair for you! You're too caught up in yourself to see that daddy and mum are _trying_. And you're making them tired, and that makes them ignore me 'cause you take up all of their attention!"

"It's not my fault they don't pay attention to you!"

"Yeah, but you don't pay attention to me, and you never have!"

A car beeped its horn and Rose's eyes glanced away long enough from Tony's to see a man walking on the opposite pavement, growing closer into her view. He looked at the car as it passed, and she saw _him_. The eyes, the brown eyes that she saw all across the way, they were _there_. They were there for _her_.

And then she saw all of the sand and the sky that washed everything out into grays and nudes, casting the dull colour into the water. And she was suddenly so cold, and so heartbroken. And how was he there? How was he on the beach with her? Where was he? Where was the Doctor?

#

"I'm telling you, Ellie, if I have to take on one more of the petty cases I'm going to lose it," he grumbled under his breath as she and he trudged back to the station.

"Ellie? It's Ellie now then, yeah?"

He shrugged. "You change your name too much."

She tutted at him. "Bollocks Hardy, I've changed it once!"

"You should have never changed it in the first place. You'll always end up changing it back, the way I see it, one way or the other."

"Well, not all of us are grumpy old men like you." Ellie said, then changed her mind as she sighed. "But, you're probably right. No one is who they claim to be anymore."

He stayed silent at that, choosing not to reply. Hardy looked out at the road when a car's horn beeped stridently. He began to turn his head back towards Ellie when a loud shout startled him.

"Rose! _Stop!_ What are you doing?! Rose! _Please!_ " a little boy's voice cried from the other side of the road.

He immediately slowed his walking and examined the scene further to notice a woman with a dazed look gradually making her way across the street, without any head to the traffic stopping in order to prevent from hitting her. The boy stood on the pavement behind her, waving wildly, attempting to get the woman's attention.

Without hesitation, or any notice to Ellie of what was occurring, he darted off of the path and into the road, pulling out his shield in order to flash it to drivers. Hardy made his way over to the woman, who was already almost across the street by then.

Off to the side, Ellie noticed Hardy wasn't following her anymore, and turned back to see him in the road, approaching a blonde woman with his hands cautiously outstretched.

"Where are you?" she asked him, stopping once he was in front of her.

"Miss, you've got to get out of the road," he calmly put, still holding his shield up to the flow of traffic.

"You look like a ghost."

"Miss, can you tell me your name?"

"Rose! Come back!" the boy hollered.

Hardy turned his attention to the boy as Ellie steadily made her way across the road to the boy on the other side. "Do you know her?" he called back to the boy.

His shoulders caved in and he clutched his cheeks with his hands, beginning to sob. "Rose is my sister! And she's really sick!"

"Can I t-" the woman started, holding her hand out towards Hardy, her fingertips nearly touching him.

"Rose, can you move your feet for me?" Hardy questioned.

Her hand fell to her side. "Can't you come through properly?"

"What do you mean?" he said.

On the other side of the road, Ellie reached the boy; she kneeled down in front of him. Beside him were two ice cream cones laying broken on the pavement. "What's your name?" she asked.

"Tony Tyler," he sniffed. "She needs the Doctor."

"I know, love," she tugged on his shirt in order to soothe him. "We'll get her to the hospital as soon as we get her out of the road."

"No," Tony shook his head adamantly. "She needs _the_ Doctor."

Over with Rose and the Detective, she asked, "So?", while Hardy stared at her with a worried face.

"So, what do I mean?"

She laughed and he took his free hand to pull his radio from his belt. "Dispatch, I need a bus and traffic control to Main Street, over." While waiting for a response, he attempted to make contact with Rose again. "Do you know where you are?"

"We're in Norway," she replied.

A crackling noise came from the radio as dispatch responded, saying: "Copy that, five minutes out for traffic, 15 for bus, over."

Returning the radio to his belt carefully, Hardy snorted: "Norway, right."

She responded: "About 50 miles out of Bergen. It's called 'Dålig Ulv Stranden'."

"We're gonna get you help, alright?"

"'Dålig'. It's Norwegian for bad. This translates as 'Bad Wolf Bay'…How long have we got?"

Assuming she had eventually snapped out of whatever she was mentally trapped in, he tried to usher her the couple of metres to the curb. "The ambulance'll be here shortly, now please follow me just a few steps so we can get traffic flowing again." A brief glance from Hardy proved that the drivers of the vehicles had begun to stream out of the cars: watching the scene unfold.

"…I can't think of what to say." She shook her head, clutching her face.

"I'm not judging what happened," he said, still under the impression she was now aware of her surroundings. "Just follow me then." He began to back up, but stopped when she refused to follow him.

"Oh there's five of us now. Mum, Dad, Mickey…and the baby," Rose said, her eyes trained on Hardy's, every which way they looked.

"Is your brother's name Mickey?" Hardy assumed.

"No. It's Mum. She's three months gone. More Tylers on the way," she smiled and shrugged.

He gave her half-curious, half-astonished look. "What?"

"Yeah, I'm…I'm back working in the shop."

With her answers not quite lining up with his questions, he realised she was still deep in whatever world she had made up for herself. "Okay, okay. You're back working in the shop, then."

"Shut up. No, I'm not. Torchwood on this earth's open for business. Think I know a thing or two about aliens," she teased in a flirting manner.

Hardy's eyes widened and he cocked his head at her. "Can you hear what I'm saying?" he murmured.

From behind Rose, Ellie had the boy in her hand, walking the two over to Rose and Hardy.

"Am I ever going to see you again?" she asked, tears threatening to fall from her face.

He was still undecided if she could actually hear what he was saying or not. So, he chose to continue talking to her like she could. "We're gonna get you help, don't worry about that."

"His name is Tony and Rose is her sister," Ellie referred to Tony once she was close enough to Hardy.

"Can she hear us?" Hardy asked, not sure if he was talking to Ellie, Tony, or Rose.

Rose began to sob, clutching her face once again. "What are you going to do?"

Tony shook his head. "No, she's stuck."

"Love, stuck where?" Ellie asked the boy.

"On your own?" Rose choked up.

"She's stuck in her brain," Tony explained, gesturing to Rose's head.

"Her brain?" Hardy reiterated, finally dropping his arms to his side, confident that the traffic would not continue.

"She's sick, like I told you!" he defended his sister.

Taking away her hands from her face, Rose's eyes continued to cry as she gazed pointedly at Hardy: "I…I love you."

The three bystanders were silent, unable to comprehend what was going through Rose's mind in that moment. Then, suddenly, she let out a broken sob, turning on her heel and launching herself into Ellie's arms, burying her head in her shoulder.

Ellie stumbled back a few steps and was ripped out of Tony's hand in the process. "I…uh…Hardy?"

Hardy only shook his head at Ellie as she awkwardly patted the blonde's head. He took a step forward, having decided to attempt and pry Rose off of his partner, but Tony quickly held up his hands in a stopping motion.

"No! Don't! You'll make it worse! You look just like him!" Tony shouted at the Detective.

"I look like who?!"

Like it was the most obvious thing in the world, he explained: "The Doctor!"

"But, I'm not her doctor," Hardy shook his head.

Ellie piped up as two uniformed police officers walked onto the scene, saying: "No, not her doctor, _the_ Doctor."

At first, Hardy opened his mouth to object but he saw the officers and chose to respond to the instead. "Make sure the flow of traffic stays halted while we wait for medical, please."

The two officers nodded and went to take their positions as controlling the flow northbound and southbound.

"Tony," Hardy said, "Why don't you go and stand on the pavement behind me, out of the way?"

Tony looked over at his sister beside him, still in Ellie's arms. "But what about Rose?"

Hardy stuck out his hand towards the boy. "Don't worry, my partner's got her. We're gonna make sure she's okay."

He glared at the Detective until eventually, he warily took Hardy's hand and let him lead him to the pavement.

#

She had been so humiliated, so jaded. She had come all the way to Norway to hear him clarify that she was, in fact, stuck in a world she wanted no part of. So, she stood in the sand and sobbed into her mother's shoulder until she couldn't any longer. Until the ringing of the Tardis left her ears.

"Rose," her mum said.

"Mum, he didn't even say it. I thought he'd say it back. I never got to hear him say it," she whimpered repeatedly.

"Rose, it's okay. You're gonna be okay. Your brother's fine, my partner has him. You just stay right here with me until we can help you," a woman's voice tried to soothe her. A woman who didn't sound much like her mother anymore. Where did her mother go? Why did her voice sound so choppy?

Rose lifted her head up from her shoulder, expecting to see the grays and nudes, and instead got a blinding eyeful of sun and people surrounding her. Vehicles everywhere and a woman with short curly hair stepping back with her hands steadying Rose's arms.

"Rose, you're beginning to worry me. Try to stay still."

She was so confused. How did she end up here? Was she back in her world? Was the Doctor there? Where was the Doctor?

"Doctor?!" she screamed. "I'm here! I'm here! You've found me! I'm— " Her voice cut off as she turned around, the world spinning crazily in her vision, to see the Doctor (!) standing next to a little boy she swore she had seen before. "Doctor!"

She sprinted towards him, his face different than before, but it was _him_. Sure, he had a beard and scraggly hair, but he was the same, he hadn't _changed_.

And then the Doctor was floating away, up, up, up, until all she saw was prickly asphalt and didn't understand why he didn't catch her on her way down.

#

Hardy, Ellie, and Tony watched in horror as Rose whirled around quickly, took one glance at Hardy and Tony, stumbled over her feet, and plummeted down to the ground—landing in a collapse.

" _Rose!_ " Tony shrieked, wrenching himself from Hardy's grasp and dashing over to her side. He began to furiously shake Rose's arm.

Hardy cursed under his breath and took a shaky step backwards. Taking the radio from his belt he barked into it: "Dispatch, where's my bus? We have code 112 in progress. We need assistance ASAP."

Ellie jogged over to Tony and Rose. She bent down beside the little boy. "Tony, come on, don't rustle her too much. Wait until the doctors come."

"If the Doctor was here none of this would be happening!" his tears ran down into his mouth.

"Check her pulse, Ellie," Hardy said thickly.

"Hardy, you don't think—?" she shook her head, glancing at little Tony.

He sighed and hesitated before continuing, saying in a gruff voice: "Just do it. That way the ambulance'll know when they get here."

Wincing, Ellie put two fingers on Rose's neck as Tony watched in horror. "What are you doing?! Is she asleep?!" he screeched.

Ellie closed her eyes and sighed in relief, retracting her hand. "She's gonna be fine, Tony. She's still with us."

Just then, in the near background, the sirens of the ambulance were heard vaguely.

"I need to ring my mummy and daddy!" Tony cried.

"Don't worry, we'll make sure they know," Ellie nodded, patting him on the back. "Do you know their number?"

Tony shook his head, sniffling. "No, I only know my home number. We're on holiday."

"Are you staying at the hotel, then?" she asked.

He shook his head again. "We're staying in a white house on the beach by that huge hill."

Ellie turned to look at Hardy. "You know which one he's talking about, right?"

"Yeah, that rich lot?" he immediately could envision just what beach house Tony was referring to. "I'll go with Tony and see if anyone's home, and you stay here until the ambulance arrives, which should be any tick now." The sirens grew steadily louder.

"No! I don't wanna leave Rose!" Tony complained, looking between Ellie and Hardy desperately.

"Alright, I don't have time for this," Hardy said in a rush. "Ellie, watch the lad. I'll meet you at the hospital."

"Hurry back, then!" she called after him as he sped away.

Hardy pushed through the crowd of people that kept slowly growing. Olly Stevens from _The Echo_ noticed him departing the scene and began to follow him.

"Detective! What's happening?" he asked with his iPhone out, ready to jot down any notes.

"No comment, Olly, just like always," Hardy snipped, using his arm to block the journalist from following him too closely.

"Right," Olly nodded, shoving his mobile into his pocket. "Are you still coming for dinner, then? My mum needs to know."

"Only if you don't pester me about what's going on right now."

Olly grinned. "I guess I'll take that as a no, then."

"Teach yourself some self-control," Hardy frowned at him.

"Only when you teach yourself how to smile, Detective," he bid before turning around and heading back to the crowd.


	3. Chapter 2: Tor

_Listen to: "Broken" by Ólafur Arnalds or "Four Knocks" by Murray Gold_

* * *

 ** _Chapter 2: Tor_**

* * *

 _He had a beard and shaggy hair while they stood by the panels on the so-familiar Tardis._

 _"_ _I'm still the same old me, you know," he reminded her while she fingered the controls._

 _"_ _Yeah, but I miss the old you," she murmured._

 _"_ _Who? The first me you saw?"_

 _She shook her head. "No, the you who first saw me," she attempted to explain._

 _He understood. "I'm still that man, Rose. I'm still here. I'll always be here."_

 _But yet, he didn't understand. She didn't think he could see himself like she saw him. "Look at your clothes," she gestured to the black ensemble. "This isn't you."_

 _He didn't look down at himself, only stared at her. "This is me: the me I sent for you. Did you really think so little of me…that I'd leave you all alone?"_

 _The edges of her vision began to fade to white. Making it look like the center console was the only thing standing in the ship, surrounded by fog._

 _Now, she was the one that didn't understand. "You're not here with me Doctor, are you?"_

 _"_ _I'm in everyone you see, Rose. Not just him. Nothing is ever gonna happen to you, because I made certain of it," he sadly smiled._

 _"_ _Stop talking in bloody riddles!" she shouted at him. "Tell me what you did! Who is he?!"_

 _"_ _You saved me," he nodded._

 _"_ _No! I didn't it, because you could never save me!"_

 _"_ _Oh, Rose," he looked at her pitifully, "I found a way to save you, over and over and over again. The problem is, it'll never be me."_

 _A blinding white light came from behind him so quickly it raped, making him wilt and wither away into the snow._

 _"_ _Doctor! You can't leave just yet! You never said it! You never said that you love me! If you loved me you'd take me back! If you loved me you'd come!"_

#

A gasp of breath.

Her eyes flew open, wide, and searched the bumpy, blurry room for anything familiar. Anything that would tell her what went on. Anything that would tell her she was back home.

"Rose," gloved hands pinched her shoulder. "You've gotta calm down and lay back. We need to keep your heartrate down. You're disoriented."

Her mouth tasted like rust and her eyes began to water from the bright light shining in her face. One word popped up into her mind. She needed to know. "Does Tony exist? Is Tony real?"

"Rosie!" she heard a small voice shout. "I'm here! I'm here! You remember me!" A soft giggle erupted. "You really remember me!" It was a voice of disbelief.

"Tony's my brother," she gasped, before finally letting the rough hands push her back down onto the surface.

"Rose," a new voice said. "I'm Detective Stevens, my partner is going to fetch your parents, and they'll meet us at the hospital."

"Hospital?" she asked shakily. "No, no hospital. Not again. They'll know!" she shook her head neurotically, trying once again to move from the surface. Now, the hands were back on her chest, keeping her down. Something pricked the bend of her arm. "Stop it!" She kicked her legs without much care of what was in the range. "Let me go! Tony! Tony! Help me! They're gonna take me back!" She squeezed her eyes shut and screamed as loud as she could.

"Stevens, can you help with her legs?" a voice breathed out heavily.

Two hands fought for control of her legs, pinning them to the surface.

"Rose!" Tony shouted. "Stop! You're scaring me!"

Hearing those words, Rose exhaled a large gust of air, before residing—calming her legs and relaxing her head.

The Doctor did not return when it was black. Nor, when it was white once again.

#

DI Hardy cursed his lack of a motor vehicle when he arrived at the beach house with a damp forehead and laboured breathing.

Most of the windows of the spacious white house were open, and a four-door car sat in the driveway. From below the hill the house sat on overlooking the beach and ocean, beach-goers could be seen sprawled across the sand or running through the water.

The sky had begun to turn a faded blue, with the golden sun on its decent.

He knocked on the door to the house, it opening to reveal a blonde woman very similar in appearance to the victim. Any doubt that that was the wrong house dissipated.

"Ohmygod, it's you!" the woman pointed at him.

Hardy's mouth formed into a thin line. "I'll assume you're Mrs. Tyler, then?" he jipped.

She drew up her neck and shouted: "Yeah I'm Rose's mum, you daft alien piece of rubbish! Only took you eight years to get here!"

A searing slap across his face made Hardy take a step back. "Miss, I'm not who you and your family think I am," he calmly attempted to explain while reaching up to rub the stinging skin of his cheek. "Your daughter has had an accident."

"Oh god! What's happened? Where are my babies?!" her face immediately went tight. "Pete!" she called over her shoulder. "Come quick!"

Hardy paused until Mrs. Tyler's husband came to stand beside her.

"What's this about?" he asked, looking at his wife worriedly.

The woman tugged on Mr. Tyler's arm. "It's Rose and Tony! Something's happened!"

"I'm Detective Inspector Hardy from the Wessex Police Station in town, and I'm afraid to tell you your daughter, Rose, has suffered a fall, and that she and your son, Tony, are en-route to Wessex Medical Center at this time with my partner."

Mr. Tyler glanced at Hardy for a moment, and then had to take a double take. "Oi! It's you!"

Hardy sighed.

"Oh, it's not him. Just a double, now," she dismissed her husband, distractedly. "How bad was it?" Mrs. Tyler asked the Detective.

"Both of your children are gonna be fine, but I'll escort you to the hospital myself," he assured them before gesturing them to follow him.

"Hang on, let me go grab my keys, we'll take my car," Pete said before heading into a room of to the side.

Mrs. Tyler took that time to study the Inspector's face. "You look just like him, well, save for that beard and hair-do, of course," she muttered.

"Does your daughter have a history of PTSD or another kind of anxiety disorder?" he asked the mum, attempting to ignore her odd behaviour towards him.

"Um, yes she does," she slowly nodded, still staring at him. "Why?"

"Before she fell, she seemed a bit disoriented, like she wasn't quite there? Your son Tony, I believe, said something about how she was 'stuck in her brain'."

"Oh no, she saw you didn't she?! Were you there before it happened?" Rose's mother asked.

Mr. Tyler returned with a set of jiggling! keys.

Hardy tilted his head to the side. "Well, I was called to her attention when she wondered out into the street and stopped in the middle of the traffic."

"Rose saw you?!" Rose's dad inferred immediately.

Mrs. Tyler nodded at her husband and covered her mouth with her hand. "She's gonna be worse off than when we came!"

"We need to get there, quickly," Mr. Tyler commented.

"If you two will drive there, I'll meet you there," Hardy said. "I walked here, myself."

Mr. Tyler shook his head. "Nah, you'll just ride with us. Come on then, love," he said, holding out his hand towards his wife. She took it and they exited the house together, the dad noticeably not locking the door behind the two of them.

#

"Tony!" Jackie Tyler exclaimed when she ran into the A&E and found Tony sitting beside Hardy's partner in the empty waiting room.

"Mummy!" he called as he bounced out of his seat, bounding to his mother and launching himself into her awaiting arms.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're alright, love," she murmured, stroking the boy's hair.

Behind her, came Hardy and Pete Tyler. Pete let out a sigh of relief and jogged over to his family, while Hardy made his way over to where Ellie sat.

"I see you've found them, then," Ellie said as she rose from her seat.

"How is the victim doing?" he asked.

"She was in and out of it on the way here. Just a couple of stitches needed on her head, really."

"Did she put up a fight in the ambulance?"

"Oh, of course," Ellie sighed. "She plum tired me out, I'll tell ya Hardy."

"Well, you go on and head back to the station and I'll stay and make everything's sorted out."

"You know what, just meet me at my sister's house for dinner, then. I want to eat and then go straight to bed," she decided, making a head gesture to emphasis her point.

"Alright, see you later then," he replied.

"See you," she nodded before beginning to head out of the door.

Tony noticed her walking out and called: "Miss Ellie! Wait!"

Ellie turned as Tony let go of his parents in order to run up to her and put his arms around her waist in a hug. "Thank you! You're the best copper ever!"

She let out a soft smile and patted him on the back.

"Yes," Jackie nodded to Ellie, "Thank you for taking care of him for us."

"Oh, just doing my job," she grinned, a little awkwardly. Tony let go of Ellie and walked back to his parents. "If you ever need anything else, I'll be there."

"Of course," Pete said, waving goodbye to her.

Ellie waved back at the family and walked out of the A&E door—it already dark outside.

Hardy then approached the family. "Right, then I'll be on my way out too. Ask the nurse at the desk for information on your daughter, but my partner said she's gonna be perfectly fine, just needed to be stitched up."

"Thank you for being there for her, Detective," the mum smiled.

"No problem," Hardy said. "I actually feel quite guilty from it, seeing how I apparently caused it."

"About that," Pete began, looking at Jackie for support. She nodded at him for him to continue. "I was wondering if you'd do us a favour."

#

Hardy sat out in the waiting room with Tony while his parents went into the room to check up on Rose. The two blokes had their hands extended out towards another, playing 'Rock, Paper, Scissors'.

"Rock, paper, scissors, shoot," they both called, choosing an option to display to the other player. The Detective chose paper, while Tony chose rock.

"Bollocks! You've beaten me again!" Tony cried, crossing his arms with a huff.

"Oi, don't let your mum catch you talking like that, mate," he lightly scolded him.

"Sorry, Detective," he mumbled, still a bit disappointed by the outcome.

A few moments of silence passed before Tony said lazily: "Do you think my sister's pretty?"

It took him a couple of seconds to process the question at hand. Could he even remember what she looked like? Was he supposed to answer something like that? "I'm sorry?" Hardy asked, furrowing his eyebrow at the question.

"I know that's a weird question and everything, but since you look so much like the Doctor, I figured you must think she's pretty," he shrugged, with the sense of well…an eight year old.

"I don't think I can judge so quickly," was Hardy's only reply to that.

He began to play with the collar on his shirt. "He died," Tony murmured.

"Who died?"

"Her Doctor. The Doctor. She hasn't seen him in since before I was born," he explained.

"Ah," Hardy nodded, feeling like he had already heard too much information about this lass's past.

"They were together, you see."

The detective in Hardy couldn't help but interrogate the young lad. "As in a boyfriend?"

"No," he shook his head. "Far too important to be a boyfriend."

"Oh, they were married," he assumed.

"No," Tony shook his head again. "Rose once told me it was like soulmates, but if soulmates applied to all of the universes, not just Earth."

Hardy made a face of wariness, but nevertheless didn't comment on it. "I'm sorry to hear about that, then."

"Yeah, but I guess that's kinda all weird."

"What's weird?" he questioned.

"She told me her and the Doctor were soulmates, and now she's found you. Which means she was right all along. Right?" Tony played a look of innocence to him, but Hardy knew what the boy was doing.

"Seeing as how your sister ended up in the hospital, I don't think anything of that sort will work out. Just because I agreed to talk to her for the sake of your parents, does not mean that we're soulmates or any of the sort, now."

"No, it just means that you're in the hands of fate, as mummy always says," the little boy grinned.

Hardy frowned.

#

When Jackie and Pete Tyler stepped into Rose's nook from behind the curtain, she was propped up on pillows with a line of stitches going from her hairline to her brow. Her eyes were open as she was blankly staring at the blue, paper curtain in front of her.

"Hi, love," her mum announced kindly. "How're you doing?"

Pete closed the curtain back behind them, it making a loud metal scraping noise.

She didn't look at her parents. "Fine, I guess," Rose murmured.

"Tony's alright, he's out there with the Detective who came and got us," Pete told Rose.

Rose didn't respond, still with a blank expression on her face.

"Are you tired?" Rose's mother asked, sitting sideways onto the hospital bed.

Her heart monitor beeped with a steady rhythm, and a nasal cannula pumped supplemental oxygen into Rose's nose. "I'm always tired," Rose sighed. She turned to look at her mum and dad pitifully.

"Do you remember anything?" Pete asked.

Rose let out a cruel laugh and shook her head. "I saw him."

"I know. I'm so sorry, Rose, I had no idea that he'd be here," Jackie frowned, reaching over to pat Rose's hand.

"I want to talk to him."

Jackie and Pete exchanged glances. "We want you to too," Pete said, "but we don't want you to push it. Your mental health is very important, Rose."

" _My_ mental health?" she demanded. "I'm not off my head! That bloke looked just like him!"

"I thought it was him too, Rose! No one's saying you're off your head!" her mum defended.

Pete frowned and looked away.

Rose played with the ends of the sheet covering her lap. "I'm sorry, I just…I wanted it to be him and…" Tears began to well up in her eyes and she heaved a shaky sigh. "Why couldn't it have been him?"

"Oh," Jackie pouted before reaching to pull Rose into a strong embrace. "Maybe it's time we act like he's dead, which I know is hard, but we all need to face that he's trapped on his side just the same as we are trapped here, you know?"

"But…but if…if I stop…trying," Rose stammered, "If I stop thinking…then it'll be real…then it'll be true. I'll have to move on, and I don't wanna lose him."

Jackie's husband shook his head and moved to rub Rose's hair. "We already have, love. And there's nothing we can do about it. As much as we think, as much as we try, he's gone."

"What stage am I in?" Rose sobbed. "It hurts so much…what stage am I in?"

Her mum turned to look up at her husband with tears falling one after the other. "You've hit it," he hoarsely replied. "You're almost a five, Rose."

"Almost a five," she repeated, muffled from Jackie's shoulder. "Yeah, I think I can work with that, don't you?"

"Yeah," he said, "I do."

Jackie and Rose separate, Rose leaning back onto her mountain pillows. "Now, your doctor told us to make sure you stay on your medication, alright?"

Rose nodded as Jackie rose from the bed. "Yeah, I promise. I want to get better, you know? He'd like that, I think."

"Did you take your medication this morning?" her dad asked.

"Yeah, I guess just seeing that bloke was…" her voice wavered, unsure what to call it.

They nodded in understanding.

"He sent him for me, you know," Rose announced.

"The Doctor?" her mum questioned.

She nodded. "He sent that man for me. To make sure I was alright."

"Who told you that?" Pete asked, thinking a dream of it.

"The Doctor did. While I was out in the ambulance. He told me he put himself in everyone for me, so I'd never be alone."

"And do you see him in everyone? Did it work?" Rose's mother cooperated with the development.

Rose looked back and forth between them, Pete and her mum, the two faces she'd know just as well as his. The faces she'd know everywhere. "I think that everyone was in him."

#

After Mr. and Mrs. Tyler fetched Alec Hardy, he stood in front of the curtain, debating whether or not to enter. The worst case scenario would be an ill reaction from the victim like before. So, why were her parents risking such a possibility? The doppelgänger situation was a freak coincidence (he still wasn't entirely sure how the family could not have known about him from the Latimer and Sandbrook cases), and they'd never have to meet him again if they simply just left town. So why put their daughter through more stress than needed?

But, when he opened that curtain and took his first, whole, look at Rose Tyler, all he saw was pretty blonde hair and a pensive look towards him that made him feel all too self-conscience about his own appearance. Her hair hung just above her shoulders and the skin around her stitches was a yellowish-green colour. She seemed to light up as he walked in, unless, perhaps that was his own view on how things went in that moment.

"I'm sorry about before," Rose started, "I haven't been exactly myself lately."

"It's just nice to see that you're alright," he nodded gawkily.

She shook her head in spite of herself. "I thought you were someone else," she continued, "and now I know that you're not." She feebly smiled, and he noticed the skin underneath her eyes was puffy.

A few moments went by with neither saying anything until Rose laughed awkwardly. "I don't know what to even say to someone like you."

"Someone like me?" Hardy asked.

"Yeah. A copper…detective no less. You look just like him, and yet you're so different. What do you even talk about to a detective?"

He shrugged. "I dunno, the weather?"

She laughed again, but this time her tongue went in between her teeth and despite the oxygen tube and the rough slip she was wearing, all he saw was her smile. "Horrible sense of humour, you have you know," Rose teased.

"Well, officers usually aren't the most fun type of mates, I suppose."

"No," she shook her head with a smirk.

"So, what kind of medicine did your…mate practice?" Hardy was unsure of what to call the man, based on Tony's confusing classification.

Rose gave him a confused look, like she almost didn't know what he was talking about. "He didn't practice medicine."

"So, he was a doctor in…?" he questioned further, throwing caution to the wind and prying.

"I don't exactly know," she chuckled.

"And his name, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Your interrogation you mean?" she threw back at him, yet still keeping her tone playful.

"Well," Hardy started, "You know how detectives are."

"I didn't know his name, 'cause he never told me," she finally answered him. "To me he was the Doctor."

He gave her an odd look and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "And that never bothered you?"

"What bothered me?"

"That you had all of these unresolved questions about him?"

Rose gave him a knowing smile. "To tell you the truth, if he was standing here right now, Detective, and I could ask him anything in the entire world, do you know what it'd be?"

Hardy shook his head.

"I think about that every day. What would be my last words? And I realised I'd ask the most important question of all: Will you be alright?"

"Why?" he asked her, thickly.

"Because if I knew that he was alright…if I heard him say he was gonna be alright on his own, then I'd be alright too. And that's why that's the most important question of all, because it answers all of the rest.

"I wanted to see you because I wanted to answer my own question. If I could look at you, and not lose my mind, then I'd think I'd be alright. Don't you think?"

Hardy didn't answer—didn't know how. What could he say? He'd seen loads of other people grieve sure, enough to know everyone was different, but she was just _so_ different. Just a couple hours ago she was laying in the middle of the road, and now she was smiling and laughing…just how hard did she hit her head?

"Yeah," she resolved her own question with a smile and curt nod, "I think I will be. Now I'm glad he never had a beard."

While she tittered lightly at her last comment, he didn't make a single expression, his eyes just flitting around her face.

Suddenly, he realised how daft he must have looked standing there, so he cleared his throat and took a hand out of his pocket to scratch his head. "Well, I best be going then. Are you staying overnight or…?"

"Oh, no I'm gonna back to where we're staying and get some sleep in a bed that isn't a metre wide," she joked.

He only faintly smiled at her. "I hope you feel better, Ms. Tyler. If you ever need anything else, you know where to find me."

Rose scrunched her nose up. "Yes, with all the coppers."

"Aye," he rolled his eyes. "The coppers."

She laughed again, and he really wished she'd stop doing that because he was feel some sort of attachment to her that was completely irrational and…What was he saying? He'd forgotten when her eyes twinkled and he had to look anywhere else but her unforgettable face. "Bye, DI Hardy, it was nice to meet you," Rose good-heartedly sighed.

"Goodbye, Ms. Tyler," he bowed his head before exiting the nook, yanking the curtain back behind him.


	4. Chapter 3: Knoll

_Listen to: "Holocene" by Bon Iver or "Arrietty's Song (Instrumental Version)" by Cécile Corbel_

* * *

 ** _Chapter 3: Knoll_**

* * *

Hardy arrived at Lucy Stevens's house nearly two hours late, with not a bottle of wine or bouquet of flowers to show for it. He wondered if he even should have come, being so late, while he rang the doorbell.

Ellie answered the door with an already annoyed look on her face. "Decided to show up, then?"

"I got held up at the hospital," was his only gruff of reply as he pushed himself past his partner and the door, not waiting to be invited in.

Ellie closed the door behind him, anyhow. "Held up? It's not like you needed statements or anything."

"The Tylers wanted me to speak with their daughter in private."

"What about?"

"You know, that whole mistaking me for someone else thing."

"So, they wanted their daughter to talk to her ex-boyfriend's doppelgänger? Kind of odd don't you think?"

"Well, not an ex-boyfriend, per say," he corrected. "But, I wasn't about to refuse. When I first spoke to Mrs. Tyler she slapped me right across the face, thinking I was that other lad."

"Hm, I'm sure we'd be best friends then."

"You'll get your chance someday, Ellie," he replied. "So, did I miss dinner?"

"Nah, we were waiting up for you," she grumbled.

#

"Good morning!" Rose announced cheerfully the following morning as she entered the kitchen after her night out at the hospital. Her mum was standing over the stove-top and Pete and her brother were sitting at the bar watching cartoons. At her announcement, they all looked over to see her, fully dressed and smiling, bound into the room.

"Hi Rose!" Tony grinned while Jackie let the spatula she was holding fall onto the counter.

"What do you lot want to do today?" she asked, taking a seat on the other side of Tony. Tony was still the only one who wasn't shocked enough by déjà vu to speak to her: "You wanna go back to the beach and try body boarding? The coastguard gave it a green day today!"

"Sounds fun!" Rose nodded, ruffling his hair with her hand. She pointed her attention to her mum and Pete and said: "Would you two want to come and watch?"

"I…uh…" Jackie started, blinking loudly, "What?"

Pete cleared his throat. "Don't you think you should stay in today and rest? You just had three stitches last night."

Rose waved her hand, dismissively. "Nah, hardly feel it. Besides, I feel great! I feel like I never have before!"

"You also seemed pretty happy go-lucky yesterday, Rose," her mother painfully reminded her.

" _Yes_ ," Rose turned around in her seat to glare at her, "But, I was sort of surprised to find his _twin_ here, mum."

Her mum put her hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright," she muttered before turning back around to finish up breakfast.

Rose frowned and turned back around.

"Well Rose, maybe this will be a new beginning for you," Pete said.

"Did the Detective make you happier?" Tony smiled innocently.

She couldn't help the blush that blossomed on her cheeks at the question, and she hoped Tony (or her mother who had turned around to observe) noticed. "I dunno," she shrugged. "I'd like it think I did it on my own, you know?"

"Was he nice to you?" her brother pressed, seemingly uninterested in anything else but the topic of DI Hardy.

"He was nice, but a bit awkward…like he didn't really know what to say next."

"That's coppers for you though, Rose," her mother piped up from the skillet.

Rose turned to look at her mum. "Oi, what's your harp on policemen?"

"I raised you on the estate, Rose. You above anyone should know that they stick their noses where they don't belong."

"Yeah, well so do you mum!" Rose joked, making Pete snort and Jackie glare at them both.

#

Hardy didn't quite exactly run into the Tylers by coincidence, if he was going to be truthful. His story was that he went down to the coastline to check up on the status of the memorial for Danny Latimer that was being built on the beach, but in actuality, he had assumed the family of Tylers would return to the beach to continue with their holiday after breakfast. So, he pretended to act surprised when Mr. Tyler waved at him from his family's spot on the blanket a ways down from the memorial progress.

"Oi! Detective Hardy! Fancy seeing you here!" Mr. Tyler called.

He made his way over to the family, Jackie leafing through a magazine while he could see the tiny forms of Rose and Tony in the water.

"Hello, I just came to see how the memorial for Danny was going," Hardy said.

"Oh yeah, I saw that," Mr. Tyler nodded. "What happened?"

"Daniel Latimer? The case of the boy a couple years back now?" He was astonished the family was unfamiliar with the case. It was broadcast to all of Britain.

Mr. Tyler shook his head. "Can't say I remember that one. But, we've been rather busy the last couple of years with Rose and all."

The two men turned to look at Rose as she disappeared under water and resurfaced a few seconds later with a wide smile on her face. "She's been doing better today, ever since talking to you," Mr. Tyler commented.

"Well, I hope she stays like this, in the sake of you and Mrs. Tyler," Hardy replied.

At the sound of her name, Mrs. Tyler looked up from her magazine to gaze up at Hardy. "You should go talk to her. She seemed to really like you. I swear, all she's been talking about lately is you with your Scottish brogue and crabby personality."

Mr. Tyler nodded in agreement.

Hardy snorted, then frowned. "Aye, it seems she is very fond of me," he snipped facetiously.

Mr. Tyler opened his mouth to comment, but Tony shouted from the water: "Detective Hardy!"

Hardy turned to face the water and saw a very wet Rose Tyler, in an equally as wet two-piece, wringing out her hair. "Detective Hardy!" Tony's voice was nearer, and Hardy saw that he was running towards him.

"Oi! No hug laddie! I've got to go back to work after this!" Hardy held up his hands in front of him in panic, fearing the boy would latch himself onto him.

"Wow!" Tony said once he approached the Detective. "You really are brilliant! You knew I was gonna hug you!"

Hardy opened his mouth to refute, but Tony continued on, saying: "Me and Rose went body boarding! Have you ever done that?"

"Can't say I have, but if you went boarding, then where's your board?" Hardy asked with a sly grin.

"Huh?" Tony asked, suddenly remembering he didn't have his board with him. "Bollocks!"

"Oi! Watch your mouth!" Mrs. Tyler shouted from the ground.

"Sorry, mum!" he replied in a rush, whirling around in preparation to dash back into the water, but he saw Rose walking out of the ocean with both boards. "Thank you, Rose!" he screamed so she could hear him. He turned back around and grinned at the Detective. "It's alright, she's got it."

"Shouldn't you go help your sister?" Hardy suggested, noticing the woman's slow movements in the wet sand.

"Oh! Yeah! Be right back quick!" He ran off, then turned to look at Hardy over his shoulder and pointed at him. "Stay right there! Don't leave!"

Hardy held his hands up briefly in surrender, then watched as Tony sprinted up to Rose's side, practically ripped a board from her arm, and almost fell onto his side at the heavy weight of the board. Rose laughed and walked off, leaving her brother to drag the board through the sand.

"It's okay to laugh, Detective," Rose smiled once she came closer to the group. "He looks completely mental down there, my brother."

Hardy, to be honest, really didn't listen to anything that Rose had said to him, taking in too many observations of her yellow two-piece and tan, glistening legs. He forced himself to look up at her face, but then he just stared at her curved mouth and her soaking hair that stuck along her neck.

"So, why'd you come down to the beach today, then?" she asked. Halfway through the sentence she had bent over to set down her board, and he didn't hear anything but the first couple of words.

"I…" He cleared his throat. "I wanted to see how the memorial was going."

"Oh, yeah, I've seen that memorial," she shook her index finger in acknowledgement. "Who's it for?"

"Daniel Latimer," he replied.

"Who?" she asked.

He shook his head and gave a dry laugh. "Nevermind."

"What, what's so funny? Did my brother get the board stuck?" she assumed, turning her head to check up on Tony, who was safely making progress up the incline.

"Naw," he smiled.

Rose turned back around to look at him.

"It's just, your family seems to be the only family in Britain who had never heard of me or Daniel Latimer," Hardy elaborated.

"Why should we have? What happened?"

He noticed Tony just a few metres away from Rose and chose not to go into it. "I'll tell you some other time, yeah?" he sighed.

Rose grew bashful and glanced up at him through her eyelashes. "There'll be another time, then?"

Hardy had walked himself into that one. "Well, I…I would—"

Thankfully, Tony chose to interrupt the Detective's babbling with a groan and a loud slap! of the board falling onto the sand. "I did it!"

Instead of turning around to congratulate her brother on his act of strength, Rose continued to look expectantly up at Hardy, as if he was going to reply. But, with her, he didn't have any particular thoughts (thoughts he was willing to share that was). He had observations and _urges_ and correlations, but no thoughts based on evidence. What would he say? Of course he had expected them to "run" into each other again, but, there were only so many times you could feign coincidence. Even in Broadchurch.

"Detective, do you want to go to lunch with us? We're gonna get fish and chips! Rose's favourite!" Tony invited.

Hardy broke his gaze on Rose to look down at Tony who stood beside her. "I should probably get back to the station, Tony," he frowned.

"Oh come on! Just _one_ fish and _one_ chip?" the little boy pleaded, water still dropping from his hair.

Hardy laughed, and Rose ruffled Tony's hair. "You're so cute," she gushed.

Tony wore a smug look on his face.

"I'd like you to come, if you aren't too terribly busy, Detective," Rose gently requested, still touching her brother's hair.

He smiled and thought about it for a moment, then glanced briefly at his watch. He hadn't had fish and chips since before his arrhythmia (doctor's orders), and he wasn't completely sure if he should have them now. But, Rose asked, and…yeah, he couldn't say no. "How about I meet you lot down at Terry's Fish Co. at two? I need to go back to the station for a mo."

"Oh! Could you bring Miss Ellie? She's so nice!" Tony said.

Hardy smirked: "Aye, I suppose I'll ask her." He glanced to the side at Rose and noticed her mouthing: _"Thank you"._

#

The police station was as dull as he'd left it: the detectives sitting in their desks clacking away on computers, the occasional policeman walking through, someone brewing a fresh pot of coffee. Ellie sat at her desk, just like the rest, riffling through old paperwork before sorting it into one of three boxes.

"Still re-filing those cold cases, Miller?"

She flipped around in her rolling chair and narrowed her eyes at him. " _Stevens_ ," she intoned.

Hardy rolled his eyes and waved her off. "Yeah, yeah, how's it coming along, then?"

Ellie sighed and slumped back into her chair. "I had to add an extra box because there were cases in the cold cases that had already been solved."

"Really?" He scrunched up his nose.

"Yep, out of the only fifty or so cold cases _we_ do have. This means after I'm done, we'll probably have about two solvable ones."

"Every case is solvable," Hardy commented, thinking of Sandbrook.

"Yeah, I suppose so. I just need a break, I think," she yawned, rubbing her eyes.

Hardy beamed. "I'm glad you said that, Ellie."

"Why?" she asked.

"We've been invited to lunch with the Tylers!"

"Really? Have you talked with them today?" Ellie wondered, then a mischevious smirk grew on her face. "Blimey! _That's_ why you wanted to go down to see the memorial so bad! You were following them!"

Hardy stiffened and drew his mouth into a thin line. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about." He began to walk away, but Ellie quickly moved to follow him into his office.

"Oh, you wanted to run into them on purpose so you'd have an excuse to talk to Rose! Admit it! You fancy her!" she grinned, pointing at him.

He leaned against the front of his desk and crossed his arms. "No comment."

"You can do that all you'd like, _Detective_ , but me and you both know that you think she's pretty."

"She is rather _pretty_ , I suppose, but I don't _fancy_ her. I think Tony's a sweet lad and he's seemed to have grown a close bond with me."

"Mhm, sure," Ellie nodded sarcastically. "But, I'll still come, even though I'll be a third-wheeler."

Hardy rolled his eyes.

#

The two met the Tylers at Terry's Fish Co. down on Main Street 10 minutes before two, thanks to Hardy's persistent rushing (to Ellie's amusement). But, the Tylers had already arrived before them, and early enough to get a table on the pavement.

"I wonder if Rose prodded them on too," she wondered teasingly, looking to gauge her partner's reaction. But, he had quite a knack for becoming stone-faced rather quick at any mention of Rose or her family.

Hardy only absent-mindedly humphed in reply, focusing on the back of Rose Tyler's head as she sat with her family at a six-top. An open spot sat between Mrs. Tyler and Tony, and the other sat between Mr. Tyler and Rose.

As the two approached the table, Ellie knew Hardy would cut in front of her to speed into the seat between Rose's mum and her brother to avoid sitting in between Rose and her father, so Ellie quickened her step, dodging Hardy's attempt to get ahead of her.

"Miss Ellie! Detective!" Tony noticed the two and waved wildly, causing Rose to turn around in her seat and grin.

Ellie took her lead and sat down in the open seat beside Tony, who promptly leaned over and latched on to her, while Hardy uneasily rested in the seat next to Rose.

"I'm glad you came," she bid in a low voice, her head following his movements as he sat down.

Across the table, Ellie laughed at Tony, "You know, I'm a detective too."

"Really?!" Tony let go of her and leaned back in awe. "I thought you were just the Detective's companion!"

"His what?!" she demanded.

"Sorry if we're late," Hardy grimaced to Rose, despite the fact that they were early as well.

Rose blushed. "I think we were a bit early ourselves," she smiled.

"The early bird catches the worm, I suppose," was Hardy's only, awkward, gruff reply.

"Yeah?" Rose laughed and nodded. "We'll see about that, then."

Hardy took that as flirting, because what else could he take that as? And that made him nervous, especially with Mr. Tyler's watchful eye off to his right side… and to the fact that no one had really ever _flirted_ with him before. But, he supposed he couldn't look into it entirely, because of the fact that he apparently shared a face with someone who she was intimately inclined towards. Could she have only invited him to lunch for that fact? This Doctor lad, was she living her last moments with him through Hardy?

"How was work at the station, Detectives?" Pete asked Hardy and Ellie, looking back and forth between the two of them.

"We're all friendly now, are we not?" Ellie began. "You all can call us Ellie and Alec, then."

"Alec?" Rose copied, looking rather closely at the Detective she sat beside.

"You can call me whatever you'd like," he replied with a heavy tongue and sweaty palms. Rose's hair was tied back and she had changed into a pink sundress that was cut extremely low to her chest and—

"It was rather dull, really," Ellie replied to Mr. Tyler's question.

Hardy took that opportunity to peel his eyes off of Rose's chest to josh Ellie: "Ellie's usually well scunnered by the end of the day."

Rose bit her lip at the word choice from Alec and glanced away.

"Scunnered?" Tony scrunched up his nose.

"Eh, don't listen to him," Ellie murmured to the boy. "Scots don't speak any sense, them."

"The Doctor wasn't Scottish was he, Rose?" Tony looked across the table at his sister.

She weakly shook her head. "No, not that I know of."

Ellie and Alec found that response to be odd, the both of them eying the other.

Jackie noticed and quickly changed the subject: "Pete, why don't you go order the food, now that everybody's here?"

"Oh, right, of course," her husband stood up from the table, "Is everybody wanting fish and chips, then?"

"We couldn't ask you to pay for ours," Ellie shook her head, Hardy already reaching into his trouser pockets for his wallet.

"No, that'd be preposterous, you should know that we have the money," Pete joked, scooting his chair underneath the table.

Ellie and Hardy shook their head in cluelessness. "Why?" Hardy asked.

"Vitex?" Rose answered for her father.

"What, _you_ invented that?" Ellie posed, looking at Pete, stunned.

Pete grinned. "And this is exactly why I love Broadchurch." He then walked through the restaurant door to order.

"Really though, you lot never heard of us?" Jackie shook her head in disbelief to the two Detectives.

"Well, _I_ was surprised you hadn't heard of Daniel Latimer," Alec replied.

"Who's that?" Mrs. Tyler asked.

Ellie turned her head to give Rose's mum an incredulous look. "Really?"

"It's a case Ellie and myself worked on a couple years back," the DI explained, glancing briefly at Rose.

"Was it a murder, then?" Jackie replied, tactlessly.

" _Mum!_ " Rose's face cheeks heated up as she hissed under her breath at her mother.

"What? It's only a question!"

"Aye, Daniel is not with us any longer," Hardy answered in spite of Rose's embarrassment.

Ellie swallowed thickly and tilted her head to gaze at Tony, who was preoccupied with playing with the tomato ketchup and vinegar bottles on the table.

"So, you solved it?" Jackie Tyler prodded further to Hardy.

" **Mum** ," Rose warned sharply.

Ellie crossed her arms and glanced away from Tony to stare at the umbrella stand going through the table.

He nodded in response to Mrs. Tyler. "Yes, we solved it."

"How many cases like that do you normally get around here?" she continued.

At that, Ellie and Hardy both looked at one another. "Thankfully, rarely," he tightly replied.

Jackie seemed to be finally satisfied by that answer and ceased the questioning, allowing Rose to participate in the conversation at the table. "How long have you been in Broadchurch?" Rose asked.

Not noticing who the question was being directed towards, nor noticing how Rose stared expectantly at him, Hardy didn't answer for the first few moments until he glanced confused off to his side. "Oh, sorry, you're talking to me?"

She didn't affirm the fact, only smirked at him.

"I moved here a couple years ago after a bad case," he replied off-handedly.

"Oh," Rose scrunched up her nose. "Sorry."

Hardy unbuttoned his coat and leaned back in his chair. "Eh, I like it here. Nice and quiet. No one prodding me about my past." The Detective gave Rose's mum a quick stare while Rose shifted uncomfortably.

"Maybe that's just what Rosie needed, then, you know, Rose?" Mrs. Tyler asked, wrapping her arms around her daughter and pulling her into an uncomfortable looking side-hug.

"I still don't like beaches, mum," she teased, patting her mother's hand whilst being squeezed in the embrace.

"Don't quite like them much either, me. Too much sand and sun and mess," Hardy griped in agreement.

Rose grinned as Jackie retracted her arms. "Yeah," she nodded.

"Alright then!" Pete's voice emerged from behind the restaurant door before he came out, balancing two trays of fish and chips with his hands as he approached the table. "I've got six helpings of fish and chips here, so eat up!" he said.

"Yes! My stomach was starting to growl!" Tony sighed with relief, sitting on his knees and leaning across the table.

"Oi! Sit like you would at home, Tony! You weren't raised by nobody, now were ya?" Jackie scolded her boy.

Tony pouted and readjusted himself so he was sitting on his bum. "No, sorry, mum," he mumbled.

Hardy immediately pushed back his seat and stood. "Sorry lad, let me help you with those-" he said, reaching out his arms to take a tray off of Rose's dad's hands.

"Nah, I've almost got it," Mr. Tyler affirmed, carefully setting down each tray on the table in the space between Rose and her mum.

"Are you sure you didn't want us to help pay?" Ellie spoke up, her brow creasing.

"Nope," he replied sternly, taking his seat back. "No one's paying but me."

Rose took a rolled up package and put it in front of herself. "Oh, this smells great! Thanks, dad."

Pete gave Rose a brief, dazed, look and then barely nodded. "You're welcome," he replied through a thick tongue.

"Yeah, ta," Tony rushed before reaching across Ellie and snatching his.

Jackie gasped. "Tony! Honestly, now! Mind your manners!"

"What? I'm starved!" he defended, ripping apart the paper with haste.

#

"When you were growing up did you always want to be a detective?" Rose asked Alec as the two wandered several paces back from her family and Ellie as they walked the town's main street.

He sighed and rubbed the side of his face with his hand. "Growing up was rather difficult for me."

"Oh," she frowned. Then continued: "It was for me too."

"Yeah?"

"I was always really lonely, you know? I grew up poor and always dreamt of something big."

Hardy scoffed. "You? Ever poor? With your dad's apparent fortune?"

Rose laughed at herself. "Yeah, I know. I got lucky, I guess. But I've learned wealth means nothing, you know? It's always been a strain for me."

"Then, while _you_ grew up, what did you always want to be?"

She looked up at him and squinted her eyes from the glint of the sun. With a smirk on her lips, she quipped: "You're very skilled at dodging my questions, aren't you?"

"My job is to ask, never answer," was his only reply.

Rose smiled. "Then I will not give you the answers you're so used to getting from everyone."

"Eh, doesn't matter what happened in the past or what didn't or what could've. We're a detective and a socialite now, it seems."

Frowning, she noticed how Hardy didn't give too much at what she might be capable of, sizing her up as just a socialite. How that was far from anything, much less than truth. "I wouldn't consider myself a socialite, Detective."

"Then enlighten me," he stated.

She couldn't exactly him about that she had once worked in the shop, and then hopped onto a space ship with an alien, saved the Earth a dozen or so times, and then got stuck in a parallel world that did not contain her soulmate, therefore working tediously for years and years to find a solution and failed miserably defeating herself into a state of absolute nothingness. "I'm a wall-watcher."

He gave her a long, peculiar look. "Now that's a new one."

"Wall-watcher," she repeated herself with more confidence. "It's someone whose profession is staring at walls all day long with no priorities, no goals…no nothing."

Alec couldn't help but wince at the harshness of Rose's words. "A wall-watcher then, eh?" he made out.

"I don't know where I'm going, you know?" Rose gave an explanation to why her life consisted of watching walls and existing but not living.

He sighed and considered giving her advice, which would be rather rich coming from him, but to be honest, he knew what she was saying. She knew what it was like to be caught in an endless existence of suffocating regularity that neither motivated a change in lifestyle nor lightened trials and tribulations. "I know what loss feels like, and I understand what you're saying. I do."

Carefully treading, she asked: "Would you want to talk about it?"

Hardy already knew so much of her past life from herself and her family, so he rationalised that perhaps giving her a brief glimpse of his own backstory wouldn't really hurt. This woman would be departing soon from the town anyways, so what could it really hurt? Besides, his story was already out thanks to his release with _The Echo_ and the rest of the news outlets that stole the story. "My wife cheated on me."

Rose lightly touched his shoulder without much thought to how he would react, but he didn't tense nor shrug her away, making her feel proud that such a grumpy man would let her touch him in such a manner. "Oh god, I'm sorry," she said to him. Although she never saw a ring on him, she had to know, she had to make sure for whatever reason. But, if he wasn't married any longer, why did that matter to her? It's not like she was interested in him. He wasn't her Doctor. He wasn't cheerful nor brilliant nor fearless…what kind of life would she live with a detective? Sitting at home with two tikes and a cottage in a row of others? Sipping wine on Friday nights and watching late night telly dramas in celebration of another weekend? What kind of life is that? A life the Doctor could have never given her. So atypical for him, but yet so typical for humanity. What she needed was an alien with a Tardis, not a human with a detective's badge and pension. "Did the two of you ever…?"

"Naw," he shook his head. "There was no point to. She had moved on."

Expecting dull elation at the knowledge that he was divorced, she was surprised when all she felt was melancholy for his situation. "I think that might be even worse than dying," she muttered.

"Why do you say that?" he questioned, shocked at her notion.

"'Cause then you spend the rest of your life wondering if there was anything you could do to prevent it. Anything you could've done to stop it from happening. And if they're dead…if they're dead," she rattled around her brain, trying to sort out the lies from the reality and the emotions from the facts, "then there's no point of hoping or praying that somehow you change it."

"I'm really sorry to hear about your lad," the Detective said, feeling for her Doctor or whatever name he had.

"Yeah…" she sighed, a bit absent-mindedly. "There's nothing that can change it. He's gone, and really, it seems, that your wife is gone. The woman you married isn't here any longer."

Hardy placed his hands in his pockets and gave that statement a really hard think. Really, the Tess he knew from their years of marriage was gone, if you put it like that. She had betrayed him—something he never thought she would ever do to him. She was new Tess, and he had loved old Tess. Two different beings. "That's one way to put it," he finally nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I suppose it is."

"…Do you see him in me? The Doctor, I mean…do I act like him?" he fumbled before flinching at the way he so awkwardly danced around the question.

She thought it was endearing the way he hesitated and floundered about—smiling softly to herself. "You might share a face, but you're your own person…and to be honest, I rarely had such a deep conversation with him like the one I'm having with you."

He had nodded along until she said her last thought, inciting him to turn his head and give her a surprised look.

"Yeah, I know," she giggled, noticing the way he had looked at her. "He wasn't very keen for the backstory."

Up ahead, Ellie and Rose's family had stopped at the intersection, one way leading back to the station, the other to the beach.

"It appears our time is up," Rose noticed the departure awaiting—slowing her walking.

Hardy nodded. "My partner and I had a nice time with you and your family, thank you for inviting us to lunch."

"We'll have to do it again, yeah? I never told you what I wanted to be when I was little," she poked him lightly in the chest.

The pair stopped only a few paces from the chattering group in front of them. "Well, neither did I," he grinned lop-sided.

Rose's face heated up and she bit her lip. "Then you'll have to purposefully run into me again," she hummed sing-song.

Hardy became mortified, feeling his shirt collar become a bit too tight on his neck. "Hm?"

"Alec, I know you came to the beach this morning to see me," she mused.

"I came to view the memorial, that's all," he attempted to defend.

"Mhmm," she nodded, playfully. "Well, perhaps you'll _accidentally_ run into me then?"

The Detective shrugged, however thankful that she didn't press too hard about the circumstances in which the 'coincidence' laid under. "Perhaps," he sniffed.

"Alright, then," she smiled, "I'll see you later."

"Rose, I don't mean to interrupt anything, of course!" Jackie called from ahead, "But are you ready to go?"

Hardy rolled his eyes at Mrs. Tyler's indelicacy.

"Yeah, I'm coming, untwine your knickers mum!" Rose shouted back.

He laughed at the impropriety of the family, and was pleased to say that for a wealthy lot, they sure seemed real.


	5. Chapter 4: Brae

_Listen to: "Song for Ten (Reprise)" by Murray Gold or "Midnight" by Coldplay_

* * *

 ** _Chapter 4: Brae_**

* * *

"You are so smitten with her, aren't you?" Ellie grinned as she and her partner made their way back to the police station.

Hardy locked his jaw and looked away.

She nudged him with her upper arm. "She seems to fancy you too, don't get all huffed up, now."

"Mi—Ellie stay out of it," the DI huffed.

"Oh come on now, Hardy, if you won't admit it, at least be her friend. I've talked with her parents and she needs one."

"I'm not a bloody shrink."

"No one said you were," Ellie snapped. "Hey, you've got your issues too now."

"Sure, but I don't exactly wander out in front of traffic and try and get myself killed, now do I?"

Suddenly, Ellie's arm is in front of Hardy, roughly halting him in his tracks.

"Oh, what now?" he grumbled.

"How would she like it if she heard you talking like that about her, eh?" Ellie frowned and put her hands on her hips.

He sighed, but didn't try and defend his previous statement about Rose, because, really, his partner was right. He was becoming flustered at the contemplation of his growing relationship with Rose. The last thing he wanted was another Tess, and the last time he even so much showed interest in a handsome woman in any aspect (Becca Fisher) his awkward attempt was futile. Perhaps he was throwing up walls to bar himself from anything undesired—anything unknown.

"So, you're interested in someone new, that's nothing to be afraid of," said Ellie, who apparently could see right through her detective partner.

"I don't wanna talk about this with you, Ellie, and that's final," was his only reply to her revelation concerning him.

She groaned and began to walk off. "You're such a pig-head sometimes, you know?"

"What do you want me to do then, huh? Go and fall in love and let her bloody cheat on me like Tess?!" he called after her.

Ellie gloated inwardly that she had been successful in goading a reaction from him. Turning around, she walked back to him. "Not everyone is like that, and you know it," she reasoned with him.

He seemed to calm himself and lowered his voice. "Then if she doesn't cheat, then she'll just do something else."

She crossed her arms and looked up at him daringly. "Then what will she do?"

"Something I won't be prepared for," he defeated. "Something that'll prove to me once again that everybody leaves, or finds someone else, or forgets me."

"But if you never even give her a chance to prove you wrong? You're gonna never have anyone ever again."

"Perhaps it's better off that way, in the end."

"Hardy," Ellie started, drawing herself up closely to him, "My husband was a paedophile who killed my son's best friend. Do you not think I was prepared for that? And yet, I want to get back out there. I want someone to prove to me that not everyone is like that. Not everyone carries secrets."

Alec shook his head. "You're wrong. Everyone has secrets. Some are just worse than others. And one day, when you fall in love again and you realise that, you'll wither and you'll fade, just like me."

"Rose and you are so alike in that aspect," she mulled over, "It's a shame that trait'll fight against you."

#

At the end of the day, after spending hours upon hours getting no paperwork done from spending all of his time musing over Rose Tyler, he had decided even after she would be gone he would never know for sure. In his mind, she hadn't really done anything to him, giving his mind no reason to let up on the constant stream of contemplation. He had to put his mind to rest, he had to discover how their story ended, and he refused for it to end by his retreat.

So, he decided that there was no better way to do that than ask her out on a date. Not a romantic date, of course, just an outing between two adults who enjoyed the non-romantic company of each other. Yes, mates.

Now, he didn't exactly have a car (usually, to his misfortune, reliant on Ellie), therefore he couldn't really take her anywhere nice (you had to leave Broadchurch to eat anything other than fish and chips or meat pie). He supposed that a dinner mate-date was too cliché, and she would probably enjoy taking a walk up to the cliffs to sit and watch the sunset. Nothing too romantic or anything. It wasn't like he was spending money on her or anything, therefore, making it definitely not a date.

To Hardy's relief, Rose ended up answering the front door (he would never, in a million years, have asked Jackie if her daughter was available). The porch lights were on casting shadows across her face, and he could hear the faint sound of the telly in the background.

"Did you really want to know the answer that badly?" Rose teased with a smile.

"I wanted to know if you'd like to go on a mate-date with me," Hardy said.

She laughed and crossed her arms, but thankfully did not assume he was speaking of _mating_. "And what exactly would that entail, _mate_?"

"Uh…," he bounced on the balls of his feet anxiously, "Cliffs?"

"Cliffs?" she repeated.

"Well," he started, "Bluffs."

"Bluffs?"

Hardy gave her an odd look before laughing weakly in an attempt to curb his nervousness. "You're making this horribly awkward for me, you know."

"I know," she grinned widely. "Hang on, let me get my trainers and we'll go on our mate-date."

"Wait," he stopped her from turning around to walk away with the quick raise of a hand. "I haven't even really told you where we were going."

She shrugged. "It's more fun that way."

#

It grew gustier the higher they journeyed, so he ended up lending her his work jacket to cover her scanty sundress, not that he was exactly complaining about her dress, however.

"Your jacket's _so_ warm, thank you. I had no idea it could get so nippy here at night." Rose bundled herself tighter within the clothing.

Hardy raised an eyebrow at the latter comment, but found himself blushing at the former.

"So," she began, starting to huff at the extensive walk, "What was it then? Firefighter? Teacher? Astronaut? Chimney sweeper?"

Hardy chuckled. "Naw, definitely not a chimney sweeper, although I did love _Mary Poppins_."

"Then what then?"

"Indiana Jones, actually," he finally answered.

"What? No way!" she laughed. "I would have pegged you for an accountant or insurance salesman or something."

"Thanks, I appreciate that," he replied in good nature.

Rose then abruptly stopped to gaze at the sunset. "You just don't get this in London, do you?" she sighed to herself.

He smiled at the ground and moved to stand beside her, both facing over the knoll. "Yeah, makes it all seem more worthwhile."

"What, living out in the country? That's not so bad, I suppose."

Hardy scoffed without hesitation. "It grows on you sure, but nothing beats the convenience of the London Tube."

"Then why not live in London? I'm sure there's more things for a detective to do there than here."

He paused before answering. "I suppose there's a greater chance of something happening that I can't control."

The tawnies began to clash and mix with the Prussians as the sun sank deeper into the sky. The waves came in gentle droves and the beaches were empty of any goers for the night. Completely and utterly alone. "Pilot," uttered Rose.

"Hm?" Hardy broke his observation of the landscape in front of them to look at her in bafflement. "What'd you say?"

"I wanted to be a pilot when I was younger," she elaborated, still closely watching the sky. "I used to watch the planes fly over my flat and I'd wish I were anywhere else but there. They got to go anywhere in the world, and they got paid for it…and I thought that was brilliant."

"Then why didn't you? I couldn't exactly be Indiana Jones," he joked lightly, "But you could have easily been an aeroplane pilot."

"One second I was dreaming of clouds," she turned to him, "and the next there I was, nineteen with no A-levels, no apparent talent, and no goals in life. I thought I'd die wandering around not knowing what was coming for me next."

"So then what happened?"

Rose shrugged. "I met the Doctor, and he needed someone to travel with him, and I'd never been to Barcelona…and it just worked, I guess."

"How did he die? If you don't mind me asking?"

She let out a long sigh before plopping down into the grass, Hardy shortly copying her. "Cyberized back in 2006, of all things," she lied easily.

"Oh right, you lot were in the brunt of that," he frowned.

She nodded before leaning back on her hands. "So, on to you then," Rose changed the subject. "How exactly did Indiana Jones become Sherlock Holmes?"

"Dunno," he said, resting his arms on top of his bent legs. "My dad was in the force when I was growing up, so I thought I should…" Hardy paused, "I thought I should try that out, for him."

"Is he…?" she inferred.

"Died in when I was eight," he roughly answered her. "On the job in Edinburgh. My mom moved myself and my brother down to Broadchurch where her family's from afterwards. She had a hard time…coping, you see."

"So you stayed then? Afterwards?"

"My mother died in '90, and my brother moved back to Scotland, and I didn't really know…I didn't know what I should do. All of my family's gone, one way or another, and it's just me."

"How'd you meet your wife?"

"Both were on the force in Sandbrook," the Detective sighed bitterly. "You know, that's where she met her current husband."

"You're kidding? Someone from your own police force?" Rose raised, putting two and two together.

"Wish I was sometimes, you know. Rarely see my daughter because of it."

He had a daughter? He was a father then? Rose felt her chest constrict with the memory of the Doctor saying he had been a father once, never had found out to _who_. "What's her name?" she asked.

"Daisy. She's fifteen, you know how teens can get—always blame you for this and that."

A slight smile escaped Rose's lips as she adjusted herself to follow the way Alec was sitting. "Yes, I was _quite_ horrible to my mum back then."

"And to your dad?" he followed.

Her throat grew thick as she remembered the lie she must tell. "Oh, my mum was always so frustrated with him and his inventions, but I had always had hope in him, and we always made things right between the two of us."

Hardy was a tad confused at the way she chose to phrase that.

"So, why did you decide to ask me out on a mate-date, hm?" Rose attempted to lighten the mood.

"My partner, Ellie, convinced me that's what you and I both needed. Someone to talk to, 'cause I refuse to talk to her about all of this."

"All of what?"

"My life," Alec simply put.

"Why won't you talk to her about it?"

He shrugged. "I need her to be there for when I want to think about work."

Rose nodded along, because it did make sense. She refused to talk about anything she was feeling to her family because she wanted to be there for them, not the other way around. When she was at home she wanted to think about what was on the telly or how her mother was still complaining at the results of the election, not about how she had finally managed to toss her nicked blade in the rubbish bin. "I can never talk to my parents about that sort of thing, either. They always want me to be okay, but the problem is that I'm never really ever perfectly okay, and they don't think I'm trying…and I'm trying so hard to be perfectly okay. But…I just can't. I want to be able to look at my doctor without thinking of him and I want to be able to go and see a 3D film without thinking of him and I want to bloody be able to close my eyes at night and not wish I was somewhere else." She heaved a breath of air and roughly laid back onto the grass, closing her eyes. "I just want to be the way I was before I met him. Happily blissful and naïve, spending my time watching _EastEnders_ with my mum without a care in the world."

Hardy locked his jaw and squinted at the now almost vanished sun. A few minutes went by and the two were completely silent, he watching the horizon and she opening her eyes to stare at the stars that cluttered the night. A gentle breeze wafted through the blades of grass and blew the Detective's scraggly hair across his forehead. "You know," he finally spoke, interrupting the comfortable silence, " _EastEnders_ is truly horrible."

She let out a surprised guffaw at that. "Yeah, it _really_ is." She bit her lip then, hesitating, before saying: "Do you miss Scotland?"

He turned his head around to look down at Rose. "It reminds me of my da."

Rose sat up from her position in order to better look her friend in the eye. "And is that a good or bad thing?"

Their faces were so close to one another that if it was still light out, Rose would have been able to make out each and every freckle littering across his nose, and he would have been able to see her eyes flit from his own eyes down to his lips and back again. "I used to think it was a bad thing."

"And now?" she pressed.

"I just miss 'em both," he told her simply.

"I'll never stop missing the Doctor. Every single second for the rest of my life. Never distracted, never stopped. And it bloody hurts, you know?"

And then his lips were fiercely planted on hers, his hand steadying her head at her cheek. She barely had enough time to think, much less respond, before they were apart, he desperately scrambling to his feet. "I…I…" he panted, at a loss of words.

"Alec…" she started, but by then he had already turned on his heel—heading back down the way they came.

She felt her face turning up, against her control, before the tears came, Rose pushing her index fingers against her eyelids in any attempt to cease her loss. He wasn't _him_. She couldn't ever let herself think of him as _him_. _He_ had never kissed her like he just had. Never showed so much emotion in one sitting. The new new _new_ Doctor.

Angrily, she twisted blades of the grass beside with her hands, ripping them out of the ground. She pushed herself off of the ground and paced the couple of steps over to the edge of the cliff. Rose extended her arm in front of herself before opening her clenched hand, allowing the clump of shadowed green to tumble out, only to disappear from her sight on the way down to the mass of sand below.

#

He only had made it half-way down the side of the bluff before Rose had caught up with him. Feeling so frustrated with himself, and completely unsure of why he had chosen then to do the first impulsive thing in his life, he was utterly amazed to hear her start shouting at him from several metres behind him.

"Oi! Detective Piss-bucket! What makes you so sure you can get away with letting a woman open up to you before snogging her and running away like a fucking daft wanker?!"

While surprised that she had raced after him, he refused to turn around and face the angry woman, mostly because he really had nothing to say to her. What was he supposed to say? He kissed her because he wasn't sure how else to tell her that she should never let that pain of loss keep her from living her life? He was bloody hypocrite, that's what he was. Every piece of advice he would want to tell her, would be a direct divergence of how he chose to live his life.

"Alec! Bloody talk to me! What makes you such a hero that you think one kiss will set me free?!"

Hardy decided it best to halt now and turn before she caught up with him, but when he turned he saw that she had already stopped, standing only a short distance from him, her dress fluttering in the wind from underneath his jacket. "I'm no hero," he shook his head woefully.

"I don't need your comfort, if that's what you think," Rose spoke with bitterness. "I thought this was a mate-date. Just talking, no…snogging or nothing."

"That was my fault," he admitted, moving a few steps closer to her. "I…I didn't do it for you, as much as I did it for me. I needed that. I needed to know that you were real. That what I was feeling was real, and I…I got carried away. And, I'm sorry. Truly am. I took advantage of you."

Rose looked at him for a few moments before walking towards him, stopping just in front of him. "I suppose," she looked down at her folded hands, "I read it wrong. I shouldn't have—"

"Chased me down the hill hollering at me?" he interrupted jokingly, smirking faintly.

She laughed weakly, gazing up at him. "We're both a mess, aren't we?"

"It would seem so," Hardy grinned.

Rose stuck her hand out towards him. "Mates?"

"Mates," he agreed, grasping her hand and shaking it briefly.

"Mates who go on mate-dates and do completely and utterly platonic things," Rose said playfully.

He nodded. "Right. Like watching a bit of footie with a pint."

She scrunched her nose up. "Blech, don't get carried away now."

"Then what would _you_ like to do on a mate-date?"

"I dunno," she shrugged and glanced around. "This was nice."

"Until I snogged you."

"Well…that wasn't completely bad," Rose confessed with a laugh.

Hardy cocked an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Oi," she giggled, slapping him on his arm, "don't get all cocky now, you still fled faster than Tony at bath time."

"I don't know if I'd call that _fleeing_ , per say," the Detective replied.

The pair slowly began to make their journey back down the hillside. Rose snorted: "Oh really? What exactly would you call running away then?"

"I remembered I had something to do," he snipped in response.

She let out a loud laugh at that. "You had something to do."

"Aye, exactly that."

"Alec, you're full of bullshit," Rose smiled.


	6. Chapter 5: Bluff

_Listen to: "Suspects" by Ólafur Arnalds or "Turn Left" by Murray Gold_

* * *

 ** _Chapter 5: Bluff_**

* * *

Although Hardy didn't necessarily have to work on Saturday, that's where he found himself: the station; noisily tapping away on his work computer. The cubicles outside of his office were empty, save for the poor few lads who were stuck working the weekend. After he had walked Rose to her door the previous night, adamantly refused a lift, and walked the mile back to his chalet at the port, he had suddenly linked two bits of information together that he was acquired: the fact that the Doctor lad (whoever he really was) was in fact cyberized, according to Rose, but when Mrs. Tyler mistook him for the man, she had grown angry at the fact that 'he' had been gone for such awhile. Something in these interactions didn't add up, whatsoever. Especially the fact that Rose seemed not to know his real name, for a man she apparently was extremely close to.

Once the database was pulled up on his computer, he had not the faintest idea of what to type in. 'The Doctor'? Perhaps he could find some record of the relationship between him and Rose by searching her. So, he typed in 'Rose Tyler'…therefore pulling up four Rose Tylers in the London area (residences varied greatly within Greater London). However, 'Pete Tyler' only had two listings, one lad in Hammersmith and one in Bromley. Going back and crossing addresses, one 'Rose Tyler' matched up with one 'Pete Tyler', the address being in Bromley. Now with an address and full names of both (Rose M. Tyler and Peter A. Tyler), he then had the ability to trace other occupants of the home (Jacqueline A.S. Tyler and Tony M. Tyler) and check backgrounds, finding no apparent mistakes or details missing.

Rose and her parents lived on the Powell estate in Peckham, London until 1994 when his Vitex Company took off, the family moving out to Bromley after their fortune was acquired. Rose would have been eight in '94 (this number didn't quite settle well with Hardy because of the fact that in 1994 he was 23), matching the information she told him about growing up poor, but not getting her A-levels? With a fortune and the opportunity to go to any college she wanted? Why wouldn't she have taken them? What was really rather interesting, to Hardy at least, was that Pete and Jackie had gone to the trouble of becoming divorced in 2005 after Pete sold his company to Cybus, only to be remarried in 2007 after Tony's birth.

Finding no marriage between Rose and anyone however, and no traces of the mysterious 'Doctor', he decided to pull up the list of casualties from the Cybermen incident. As the list was loading, he became suddenly aware of someone peering at his computer screen from behind him.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?!" Ellie gasped.

Blood rushing to his face, his hand spastically attempted to click off of tab he was on in pointless effort. "I…I was…" he stammered before angrily snatching his specs off of his nose, retiring his efforts on the tab, and standing from his seat. "Goddamn it Miller!" Hardy exclaimed, exasperatedly putting his hands on his hips.

Ellie fired back: " _Stevens_! And the door was unlocked, _Hardy_! It's not my bloody fault you were too immersed in stalking the poor Tylers to notice me!" She glanced back and forth between her partner and the evidence of the computer screen.

"Alright," he said, "I was not _stalking_ them."

"Yes you were! Jackie told me what happened to him! You're trying to look for that bloke's name on that list to make sure he's on there and that they're all telling the truth!" she shouted at him while gesturing to the screen.

"Ellie! Listen to me!" he frantically tried to explain. "Rose told me that—"

She put a hand up in a stopping gesture in front of his face. "No," she shook her head.  
"Shut up you prat and listen to _me_ before I _shite_ all over you."

"No! Jackie said when I first—"

Ellie put her hand back down to her side and began to gesture wildly with both. "Hardy! For the love of god! You're your own worst enemy! There is no valid explanation for why you should be going behind that good family's back and putting their names through the system! If you have a question, just ask them!"

"Ask them why there's something fishy with 'em?" He nodded at her facetiously. "Yeah, sounds like a great plan."

"Ugh," she groaned in frustrated. "You're such a prat!"

"So you've told me," he snapped.

"Some people just have bloody secrets sometimes, Hardy! You keep secrets from me; I keep secrets from you!"

"And Joe kept secrets from you," Hardy added cooly.

Ellie's jaw locked and she drew herself up right in front of Hardy, sticking her finger in his face. "Don't ever make that comparison again with me, _Inspector_."

He forcefully pushed her finger out of his face. "Then what's the difference then, Ellie? Huh? What is it?! Tess had a secret affair, Joe had his…where's the line?! Where is it bloody drawn then?!"

When she didn't respond to him, he panted for a bit, calming down a few notches before continuing in a lower voice: "When is it not okay?"

Ellie locked eyes with him and said ever-so simply: "I don't know. I guess I'm not the person who should be giving you advice, then."

He nodded and eased himself back in his chair. "Yeah. Guess not."

Awkwardly, Ellie mumbled: "I'm just gonna go get my good mug and head out."

With Hardy not offering any sort of goodbye to her, she silently left him sitting at his desk, staring blankly at his computer screen. Once she was gone and had closed the office door behind her, he leaned over and turned the computer monitor off.

#

"Rose! How was your night out with Detective Hardy?" Tony asked his sister that same morning as he came into the lounge to find her and Pete sitting on the couch watching the news. "Mum made me go to bed before you could come back."

"I know, I heard," she replied, patting the space on the couch between herself and her dad for Tony to sit.

Tony sat before Pete commented: "Yeah, I'd like to know more about it other than 'it was fine'."

"Whatever," Rose laughed, shaking her head. "You asked so many questions!"

"All I asked was 'how was it?'!" he chuckled.

"So, where did you go?" Tony asked Rose.

"We went up the cliff to watch the sunset, 's all."

"Ooo," Pete winked, "Awfully romantic, eh?"

Embarrassed, her face flushed as she said: "Oh, shove it, dad! We're just mates!"

"Is he your new best mate, then?" Tony innocently offered.

Rose softly smiled at her brother before grabbing him and tugging him close to him, wrapping her arms around him in a crushing. "No," she cooed, "cause _you're_ my best mate, Tony."

He laughed and attempted to push her off of him. "Stop! Rose! Can't breathe!" he over exaggerated as she began to coat his head with light pecks.

She grinned, but let him go, he practically falling over at the force of him attempting to wrench free from her backlashed. "Woah, careful," she grabbed hold of his arm to steady him.

"What did you all want to do today?" Pete asked, muting the telly as it went to commercial.

"Well, you know that trail that goes up the cliff?" Pete nodded, so Rose continued: "When Hardy and I went up it last night I saw that it levels off pretty well, like in a plateau of some sort? And I wanted to go to the bookstore in town and find some new books because that is literally the best place to read, if I've ever seen one."

"It's _literally_ the best place to read?" Pete teased.

"You're being _quite_ the knob this morning, aren't you?" Rose countered in good nature.

"You think they have comics there, Rose?!" Tony jumped up and down on the couch while sitting on his knees.

"I dunno," she shrugged, "It's worth a go, I guess."

"Well, how about I give you two some money, you go into and pick up some books and some lunch while me and your mother relax for a bit, by ourselves?"

Rose immediately scrunched up her nose, getting the insinuation of her father's words. "Ew, dad!"

"What? What's ew? I wanna know!" her brother whined, yanking the sleeve of Rose's jumper.

Pete laughed and said simply, "Eh, I've still got it," which spurred Rose to make a gagging noise and vacate the lounge with Tony following closely behind, still asking about what was so apparently gross.

#

After changing into weather appropriate weather (light clothes and sandals), the two Tyler siblings made their way down the street en route to the bookshop off of Main. Hands entwined, the two swung their hands back and forth.

"Alright, 3 times 6?" Rose asked her brother distractedly as she peered into the passing shop windows.

"Ugh! Another?! Come on, it's summer! My brain is fried to bits! I don't have room for my maths!" Tony complained.

"Oi, multiplication is important."

"Why?" he asked with a creased face. "That's what we have calculators for."

Rose looked away from the windows to look down at Tony. "Well," she shrugged, "that's true."

Her brother opened his mouth to retort, but she interrupted, rushing: "But you still have to get good marks now, regardless."

He sighed and reluctantly answered: "16?"

"18, but close."

"Told you! I have chip brain!"

"What the bloody hell is that?" Rose laughed as she tugged Tony to stop long enough to look both ways before crossing the road to merge onto the street the shop was on.

"Chip brain! It's when your brain is so fried it spits out chips!" Tony illustrated.

"Do those chips come with vinegar per chance?" she played along, sticking her tongue in between her teeth.

"No! Red sauce! Who uses vinegar?!"

"What are you going on about Tony? You used vinegar on your chips just yesterday!" Rose replied.

"Well," he sniffed, "never again. Captain America uses ketchup."

"You and those comics," she shook her head. "I swear."

"You just don't get the appeal."

"You're right," she chuckled, "I don't. 3 times 3, then?"

"9," Tony grumbled under his breath.

"Yes! See, you've got it!"

"That was an easy one though."

"Alright, fine! 4 times 7."

"21?"

"Nope, that's 3 times 7. 4 times 7 is 28."

"Ugh! Math's stupid!"

Rose laughed loudly. "Yeah, that's what I thought. But look," she stopped Tony and pointed at the shop beside him with her free hand. "What's that say near the top?"

Along the top of the shop windows in white lettering were categories of literature the store carried, examples being children's, self-help, romance, encyclopedias, and…"Comics!" Tony let go of Rose's hand before dashing into the shop, noisily ringing the bell that hung on the door as the door swung open and slammed shut after him.

Rose only shook her head and smiled, following after him into the quaint shop to find that it was embodied by rows and rows of floor to ceiling wooden shelves, littered with dozens and dozens and dozens of writings. She stood in the doorway for the first few moments, stunned at the amount that lay in front of her.

"Your son's in the comic book section on the second row past the third shelf twisted from the ninth book from the end," an elderly man spoke up from the counter he sat behind, with a book in one hand and a finger pointing the direction on another.

"Sorry," Rose smiled politely while giving the man an odd look and walking the few steps over to the counter, "he's not my son; he's my brother."

"Oh," he chuckled to himself in embarrassment, "my mistake, I give you my apologies."

"No, it's alright." Rose nodded, unfortunately with the knowledge that that mistake had been made more than once. "My name's Rose," she introduced herself, sticking out her hand across the counter to the man.

With the hand that had been previously pointing, he shook hers. "I'm John, the owner, nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too, John."

"You're not from around here, are you?" John questioned.

Rose shook her head. "London."

"Holiday here for the season?"

"Correct again," she grinned.

The man creakily rose from seat, noticeably trading his book for a wooden cane. "Looking for some good summer reading, then?"

"Always," she noted.

"Then I suppose you've come to right place, unless you were looking for the newsagent shop, o' course. But, I've always found the papers to be most remarkably dull, what are your thoughts?"

She observed as he squeezed himself through the small opening on the side of the counter. "I think that if I could choose between reality and fiction, I'd choose fiction every time."

Now standing beside her, John towered over her by some good centimetres while still hunched over by use of the cane. "And why, Ms. Rose, would you choose fiction every time?" he smiled nearly ear to ear.

"You can always revise it," she answered him without a beat of hesitation.

"Good. Exceptionally good," he nodded before tottering off. "Come now, I have many things to show you."

Looking around, dazed, Rose blindly followed the old man as he wandered around the winding shelves of the store. "So nonfiction is most definitely out…how about a good spiritual fantasy?"

"I—" was all Rose managed to get out before a book was tossed towards her, she barely catching it before it hit the floor.

" _Life of Pi_ by Yann Martel, a good one I say. Never seen the film though, have you? It's on my bucket list," John continued, tapping his cane across the tile as he turned the corner of the shelves.

Too absorbed with keeping up with the owner and reading the back of the copy of the book, Rose didn't register another book was being tossed at her until she heard it clatter across the flooring.

"A good period romance perhaps? _Atonement_ by Ian McEwen wouldn't hurt. But, note that when it gets a touch boring around the second part you need to power through anyways because you will love the ending, I promise. Very innovative. As for the film, I was disappointed. They didn't go into it as much," he rambled, slowing his steps just long enough for Rose to reach down and pick up the thick copy of the book.

"I think I have seen that act—" she began, before she was interrupted by him, once again.

"Oh, then put that back," he waved his hand at her. "Spoilers!"

She creased her brow, but set it aside on a nearby shelf as she moved along, regardless. "At least I haven't seen _Life of_ —"

Suddenly, John stopped in front of her, turning around on his heel, thoroughly startling her. "How do you feel about 19th century literature?"

"Well," she tilted her head, thinking about it, "I guess it depends on—"

Cutting her off completely, he affirmed: "I'll take that as a yes." He tapped a book sitting on the shelf beside him. " _Silas Marner_. George Eliot. Learn to like it, 'cause it's a good one."

She made a face at him as he walked away before scrambling to yank the book of the shelf so she could catch up to him before he got too far.

"If I could have any accent, I'd probably choose Scottish, more in particularly, Highland English, oh that's a good one. Very Gaelic in nature. So, if you like Scots as much as I do, try _To the Lighthouse_ written by Virginia Woolf."

Scottish? By Virginia Woolf? Rose narrowly stopped in her tracks. "I'm sorry, did you say Woolf?"

"Why," he smiled, turning back around with the book in his hand. "Yes I did! Good name, isn't it?"

"Yeah," she murmured, taking the book from his hand and staring at the lighthouse and bay on the front cover.

She added it to her small pile underneath her arm with lingering glances as she slowly trailed behind John.

"And," he sighed in content, "the final book. This one's been popular with my customers over the last couple of years ever since the film came out. Have you ever seen this? I'd hate your view of the book to be spoiled by the terrible excuse of an adaption."

He held out a book towards her and she practically tilted her head up towards the ceiling and laughed. First the Bad Virginia Woolf and now what was displayed by the owner: _The Time Traveler's Wife_ by Audrey Niffenegger.

"So, have you seen it?" he repeated himself.

She took her stare off of the little girl's shoes and stockings to flit her eyes up to the kind old man with the wire specs and greying hair. And then, she realised that he had brown pinstripes and a blue oxford and she wrenched her eyes closed quickly as the world tilted on its axis. "You're not real. You're not really here," she whispered under her breath. "When I open my eyes you'll be gone and I'll be in my bed, 'cause this isn't real. You're not real. You're not really here."

"Rose?" the old man croaked in a concerned voice. "Are you alright?"

But that wasn't _his_ voice. This man didn't know who she was. She opened her eyes slowly to find that he had put down the arm that was holding the book and was now staring strangely at her. "Ms.?"

"Sorry," she breathed, shaking her head. "I forgot where I was for a moment."

"Do you need some cold water or anything?"

"No," she smiled. "I'm fine now. Just a bit disoriented there for a tick."

"Did you want this book also? It's a fine one, I promise," he vowed with a twinkle in his eye.

"Yeah," she nodded. "I'll take it. Along with the rest, o' course."

He handed her the book over. "Did you want to pay for those now, or wait until your brother was done looking?"

"Actually," she thought, "Could you point me in the direction of my brother? The directions you gave before weren't that helpful and… it seems I'm not really sure where exactly we are in relation to anything at this point." Everywhere she turned, all she saw was more and more rows of books.

"He's two right turns from us that away," he guided her, pointing behind himself.

"Oh," she replied, confused on how many turns they had gotten to the point they were at. "Thank you, then."

"See you later," he nodded, patting her on the shoulder as he passed by, going the opposite direction.

Rose turned to watch him disappear around the corner, hearing the faint tapping of the cane until it was no more. She turned and made her way around two right corners, as John instructed, and found shelves and shelves of colourful comic books and a very gleeful Tony crawling around on the ground, peering at all of the bottom shelves. "Find what you're looking for?" she interrupted his rummaging.

His bright face shot up to look at Rose. "Yeah! Look!" he exclaimed showing her an issue of _X-Men_. "Issue four! The one I've been missing!"

"Yeah," she smiled, "That's great! Are you ready to go?"

"Just a sec…how many can I get?" he asked.

"Even or odd?"

"Oo! Even please!"

"Alright…a nice round even number then…nine, is that even or odd?"

"Odd! I knew that!" Tony replied.

"Just testing you," Rose narrowed her eyes playfully. "Alright, you can get ten."

"Ten?! Can't you make it twelve!" he whined.

"Nope," she affirmed, popping the 'p'. "Just ten. Five times two is ten. Ten divided by five is two. Even."

"So? Twelve divided by six is two, too!"

"Hmmm, very good," Rose winked. "Pick twelve of your favorites and let's go."

"'Kay, let me get them, then!" he rushed, hopping to his feet and beginning to sort through his scattered sorts.

She looked around at their surrounding and made an uneasy facial expression. "Uh, Tony? Do you know how to get out of here? I'm probably lost."

Her brother laughed at her. "Yeah, the front's just a couple rows away."

Rose made a wary face.

"So," Tony said, finished putting the comics he didn't want. "What books did you find?"

She pointed ahead of them, in a gesture for her brother to lead the way.

He got the hint and began to lead them both through the aisles, his small stack of keeper comics in his hands.

"Uhm, actually," Rose began, looking down at her own selection, "odd story: the owner of the shop picked these all out for me."

"Wait is the owner that lady behind the counter who told me where to find the comics?"

She made a face of bewilderment. "No…there was old bloke behind the counter. He's the owner."

"Oh," he shrugged. "Then that lady must have just been a worker then."

"Yeah…I suppose." She attempted to reason with herself, thinking that the lady Tony saw had traded positions with John before she had walked in, and after Tony had went to his comics. But, what worried Rose was the fact that that time window was so small, and he wore _his_ pin-stripes and _his_ specs. But, he hadn't spoken the same, nor had she noticed any trainers. Plus, the cane…It was all too much for her. Was what she had seen even real? Was any of it real? Sometimes she felt so light-headed, so feathery….None of it seemed solid, none of it seemed quite there. And when she stood perfectly still in complete and utter silence, she swore she could hear the faint whirring! of the Tardis from back when she slept on board, the noise soothing her to sleep even on the most recent of nights.

Was the book shop they were in real? Was all of those endless rows and turns and aisles and wooden shelves really a maze or something she had completely and utterly made up? She wasn't crazy, no, but…sometimes it felt like it. She wondered what she seemed like to other people. Was some of the things she said ever ridiculous and daft? Did she ever—

—she was walking across really hard tile and her brother was glancing behind his shoulder at her, waiting for something. His mouth had moved.

"Rose? Did you hear what I said?" he asked her nervously.

"Sorry," she smiled, "I think I was thinking too hard."

Tony laughed and decided that his sister was okay. "Maybe you should stop thinking," he chuckled.

"Maybe _you_ should start, eh?" she quipped.

As they turned the last corner, Tony turned his head and stuck out his tongue at Rose before saying with pride: "See, told you I knew how to get back." The two stood in front of the long maze of books, facing the counter occupied then by a middle-aged woman eating a boxed lunch.

"Ah, have you two found keepers then?" she said with her mouth half full of salad, looking up at the two siblings.

Tony nodded and walked over to the counter with a face of recognition towards the woman, while Rose lingered back. "Have you seen John?" she asked the employee.

"John…?" the woman asked as Rose's brother sat his stack on the countertop.

"The owner," she answered.

The woman tilted her head at Rose. "…I'm the owner."

Rose knew it. She knew she had imagined him. But why so old? Why so confused of her? Was he slipping so much from her mind that he was becoming old to her? He was becoming a stranger. **No**. John was real, because if John was real, that would mean _he_ was still alive in her head. _He_ was still breathing and moving inside of her, just like _he_ always would. No cane, no grey hair, no confusion. John worked in that book shop, and he was a stranger to Rose, and she had never seen him before in her life. He was a coincidence. He was no Time Lord, he was no hero. Not brave, nor victorious was John: the book shop worker. "Sorry, I may have gotten it wrong. Is he your employee then?"

"I'm the only one who works here, love," the attendant answered her, trying her best to remain polite and neutral-toned.

"Your dad then?"

As the owner shook her head no, Rose's brother turned his head and gave Rose a pitiful look.

"Are you sure? Maybe a customer then?" Rose walked over to stand next to her brother. "Someone gave me these books to read, 's all. I wanted to tell them goodbye, you see," she attempted to explain, holding up the stack of books as proof to the shop keeper.

"Well, _I_ haven't seen anybody other than you two walk in here…" the owner uttered, then added in a small voice: "But, I could always be mistaken."

She blinked back tears in her eyes as she nodded, then gave Tony a brief apologetic look before addressing the owner. "Nevermind, I think I'm just the one mistaken. We'll take all of these, please." Rose carefully sat down the books on the counter next to Tony's stack.

And, as Rose rummaged in her purse for the money her father had given her for the books, Tony made sure to keep a careful eye on his sister, just in case.


	7. Chapter 6: Precipice

_Listen to: "A Game of Croquet" by Johann Johannsson or "Faction Before Blood" by Junkie XL_

* * *

 ** _Chapter 6: Precipice_**

* * *

He had to know. He had to know if the Doctor truly existed, or it was some elaborate lie from the family to cover up something even more peculiar. But, Hardy found over the course of the day that he couldn't continue to snoop through the family's information without hearing the cross words that Ellie had given him that morning in the back of his mind. But, it bothered him so: the strange behaviour from the mum, the lack of knowledge about the strange man from Rose, the ever so articulate Tony….

He supposed it wouldn't hurt popping by—asking Rose on another mate-date. Yes, that's what he'd do…but would _they_ do? Together. He couldn't bombard Rose with questions like some sort of interrogator, and more urgently: he was sure her parents would get suspicious with his apparent obsessive interest in her. He had no plan…he wasn't even sure _who_ Rose was. Much less where she came from. He couldn't have more than a work interest in her, right? He was only interested in finding information about her mental stability, for the sake of the people of the town, of course. Wouldn't want another Main Street incident, you see. But, if it was truly just work related, then he would have no problem in asking Rose's family to interview her…but then he got it. He cared about what Rose thought of him. He cared what her face would look like when he informed her that he was only speaking to her for the good of the community, and not on the basis that he had grown fond of her, because he really had. He could speak to her for hours upon hours and watch on how she impossibly seemed to change her facial expressions so she wore a different one every millisecond he saw her, so he could never take his eyes off of her for fear he'd miss something so miniscule it would be crucial.

No. He couldn't let himself mistake something like that as real. What he saw in her…oh, he couldn't even begin to dwell upon it.

Perhaps, he'd never know. Well, not speaking of his feelings for Rose (that wasn't on topic at the moment as far as he was concerned), but of the strange mystery surrounding the Tyler family. The more he learned, however, the more he wanted to spend time with her so she could talk to him, so she could tell him what he wanted to hear.

Wait. But what did he want to hear? He felt as though he was waiting for something to happen…but what? What did he want her to say? 'You're completely right, we are hiding something. Our secret is _. But I…' Then he couldn't finish it. He knew as much that he wanted the first part—with the filled in blank, of course—but, then he stopped hearing what she had to say, not because he stopped listening, but because she stopped. Her lips were still moving, but he couldn't hear the words, nor make it quite out visually. What was it that he so wanted her to say? He couldn't even think of any suggestion to fill in the missing chunk, because he didn't know what made him hurt the least.

#

Once she had arrived home with the books and take-away, she had hardly spoken, still muted from the book shop that was surreal in more ways than Rose would like to think about. Her parents had attempted to speak with her on the books she had purchased, but she had wanted no part, in still constantly thinking about _The Time Traveler's Wife_ that she had hid behind the house while her brother took in the bags of take-away. It had seemed to burn a hole through the back of her mind—feeling herself ache to know what it contained, to know what advice it had for her…what it would solve.

When she had opened up that very book on the cliff after tea and traced the first two lines of the Prologue she had found what she sought in the character she had hoped to identify with: _Clare: It's hard being left behind. I wait for Henry, not knowing where he is, wondering if he's okay. It's hard to be the one who stays._

Her face had crumbled as she threw the book from her lap, bringing her knees into her chest. The fact that he never could have stayed…not even if the universes had aligned just for them. Not even if time itself warped around their making. And oh, she wanted to know if he was alright. That he wasn't alone…the Doctor should never be alone. No one should ever be alone. 'Cause, then silence is all you'd know, and nothing is more eerie than the depths of space where nothing exists, nothing blooms.

But wasn't that where the Doctor was…in her mind? That depth of space where he was silent, was without impact, was the eternal calm before the storm.

All she wanted was his voice. But all she ever heard was hers. Even when she made him say things she would always and forever be able to quote, he had her voice.

 _I keep myself busy. Time goes faster that way,_ the book would continue to say.

 _I go to sleep alone, and wake up alone. I take walks. I work until I'm tired. I watch the wind play with the trash that's been under the snow all winter. Everything seems simple until you think about it. Why is love intensified by absence?_

 _Long ago, men went to sea, and women waited for them, standing on the edge of the water, scanning the horizon for the tiny ship. Now I wait for Henry. He vanishes unwillingly, without warning. I wait for him. Each moment that I wait feels like a year, an eternity. Each moment is as slow and transparent as glass. Through each moment I can see infinite moments lined up, waiting. Why has he gone where I cannot follow?_

Was her prologue just as sorrowful—just as forlorn?

What terrified her the most was that she might not ever be able to write her prologue, because for there to be a prologue there must be a story to attach with it, and she had no story. Wall-watchers never have stories; they leave nothing behind because they take everything with them. For a story to exist, you must leave it with something.

#

Despite her best efforts to hide the fact that she hadn't come home from the cliff until after midnight, Pete was smart enough to stay awake long enough to scare her as he emerged from the kitchen, making sure she had come home safe and sound.

"Pete!" she exclaimed, clutching her chest with her spare hand. "Bollocks, you scared the shite out of me!"

"Your mother was worried about you, Rose," he frowned while crossing his arms.

"She's always worried," she replied with a quirk smile.

"Well," he tilted his head, "that's true."

"I kinda got caught up," she excused.

"You read after the sun went down, without a torch?" he asked warily.

"I…" Rose blubbered, searching her head for a reason why she hadn't come back after sunset other than the truth of the fact: that she had stood on the edge for hours, contemplating what it would feel like to jump and never return.

Pete gave her a knowing look. "If you were with that Alec bloke, that's fine. You're an adult and what you do is your own—"

She was mortified that her dad would assume she was with Alec. Was it that believable? That she would be interested in the man? "Dad! No, honestly! It was a nice night, I watched the sunset and decided to stargaze a bit. You know, you can't ever see 'em in London." She lied ever so easily.

"Yes, one of the downfalls of living where the lights are," he grinned, yet not completely believing the story Rose told. "How's that book then? You've probably finished it by now."

"Yeah, it's good. Almost finished, actually," she replied, tucking _Silas Marner_ underneath her arm.

"Rose," he drawled unevenly, "…your brother told me what happened today in the shop with John."

"I've been taking my meds, if that's what you're wonderin'" she snapped, ready to flee the turn in conversation.

He sighed and gave her a pitiful gaze. "I just want to make sure you know that when you see things like that…that they aren't real. Yeah?"

"Yep," Rose replied tight-lipped.

"Come on then, give me a hug before bed." Her father outstretched his arms towards her.

Not without hesitation, she slowly made her to give him an awkward side hug with her arm not holding her book.

He gave her a lingering peck on the top of her head before saying: "I love you, now."

"Love you too, dad," she mumbled on instinct.

Pete smiled sadly and let her pull away from him, not before he could brush some of her hair out of her face. "See you the morning. Sleep tight."

"Yeah, you too," Rose bid before heading to her room, leaving her dad standing in the foyer.

She didn't trust herself falling asleep that night, not when his face seemed so fresh in her mind. The light hair, the withered face, the way he spoke to her…he had to be real, yes? **No** , she pulled traits out of the Doctor and put them in someone who she thought would be real. She had tried to satisfy herself without giving herself everything her mind had. She didn't want to risk dreaming of him, even if he was full or in spirit like John. But, frustratingly enough, she didn't think she could dream of him in full because every time she tried to visualise his face, she couldn't remember how exactly long his sideburns were or the exact shade of his brown eyes.

Leaning up against her shut door, she looked down at the book in her hands. The front cover illustrated an elderly man shielding a young girl from what seemed like the wind. She flipped through the first several pages to have a peak of what the book would be like to sit and read for the night until morning. The first paragraph went on for a page and a half, with phrases and word choices that looked so complex that Rose decided it would be a challenge to make it through even that lone paragraph—the perfect way to waste away the night without thinking of how her foot had stepped on nothing but air on top of that bluff.

#

Stirring from her reading spot took a few moments of wincing and confusion, looking to the clock to find it read nearly eleven.

Her mum was sitting on the couch down the stairs in the parlour reading a magazine once Rose had gotten herself dressed; her dad and Tony unknown.

"Where's dad and Tony?" Rose asked.

"Well, it's about time I got to see your bright and shining face. Haven't seen you seen dinner last night," her mum dryly replied, beginning to flip the pages of her magazine a bit more fiercely.

"I was stargazing."

"I was _worried_ about you."

"I'm twenty-nine years old, I think I can handle myself," she snapped.

"Yeah," Jackie turned her attention up to Rose, "and hopefully you trust that copper, 'cause I sure don't."

"I wasn't with him," she groaned.

Her mother ignored her, rambling: "I don't really understand why you'd want to be in a relationship with him, really. I mean after everything and how he seems so bitter…but, maybe you have this type…a _really_ specific type."

"I wasn't _fucking_ with him, get that through your bloody thick head! How could I ever be with a man who looked just like him? What kind of shite life would that be?" Rose shouted at her.

With a sudden snapped change of emotion, Jackie worriedly set down her magazine and rose from her seat, walking over to her daughter with a timid face. "Oh," she stated softly, "I'm sorry I suggested it, Rosie. I know it's hard for you to see him. The good news is that that man is here. Yeah? When you go back to London you'll never have to see him again. No more looking, right?"

Rose looked back and forth in bafflement. "What's wrong with you? What the hell was that?"

"What do you mean?" she said gently.

"Just a second ago you were furious with me for not coming home till late and now you're suddenly walking on egg shells or something."

"Well, I was wrong with being so cross with you, I shouldn't have gotten so worried. Yeah? It's great you wanted to see the stars, love."

"Stop treating me like I'm still in the bloody hospital! I want you to be cross with me and I want you to shout at me like you used to for doing stupid things! It's you, and dad, and Tony…you all treat me like I'm gonna fucking break any second! I know I am! I spend all day bloody waiting for it! Like, just yesterday when I saw John, who apparently doesn't even exist! Maybe if you lot stopped treating me like I'm depressed maybe I'd stop being so goddamn depressed!"

Jackie nodded all while she yelled, and once Rose finished she calmly said: "Yes, I get it. I was used to treating you a certain way…but I'll try to—"

"Nope! 'Cause there you go! Ten years ago you'd shout at me and tell me you could coddle all you like 'cause you're my bloody mum."

"What do you want me, Rose?" Jackie grew furious with her daughter, finding it hard to keep a neutral face like all of the doctors had told her to use. "You keep going back and forth! Do you want me to coddle you, or do you want me to treat you like an adult?!"

"I want you to treat me like you did when he was with us! To worry and to fret, and then shout at me when I came back home only to give me a hug anyways and beg me not to go again!"

"Rose, that's not gonna happen, because he's not here. We're not still in 2005 anymore. We've all moved on. You can't expect me to treat you like I did back then because you're still stuck." Her mum gasped as the last word slipped out of her mouth, now worried about how Rose would respond to such cruel words.

And, while her mum's words were harsh, but yet true, she couldn't help but let a wide grin crawl its way onto her face. "And that's what I wanted. For you to try and shake it out of me, because that's what bloody Jacqueline Andrea Suzette Tyler does. She tries to fix it all herself, 'cause you're a fighter," she said strongly.

"What do you mean that's what you wanted?" Jackie asked in a small voice. "That was horrible!"

"Because for the first time since he'd gone, you told me the truth. None of the 'he might come back' or 'I have faith in the cannons' or 'you're gonna be fine'. You told me the truth. And, that's all I wanted. From anyone."

Without waiting for a response from her mum, she turned on her heel and headed towards the front door.

"Oi, where're you going?" she heard her mother ask behind her.

After grabbing her purse from the hook near the door and putting on her sunglasses, she turned back around to give her mother a mischievous smirk. "To go shake it out myself, hopefully with the help of that untrustworthy copper—which in my opinion, is something Rose Marion Tyler would do."

To stunned, Jackie didn't get to shout the words "Is that some kind of sex innuendo?!" until after Rose had already shut the door behind her.

#

He really—truly—had planned on avoiding Rose Tyler, but that suddenly became extremely difficult when she knocked on the front door of his chalet.

"…Yes?" he asked her suspiciously once opening the door wide enough to stick his head through.

"Mate-date, now please." How had she found where he lived?

"I…what?" he blubbered.

"Alec, let me in. I need…"

Hardy raised his eyebrows in anticipation.

"I need a mate, at the moment," she finished, giving him a less urgent look this time—more of a pleading one.

"Today's my day off," he gruffed. He needed her to go away without himself having to tell her to. She couldn't come inside of his house! He…they needed boundaries. He needed her to realise that all she saw in him was the face and nothing more.

"If you want me to leave, then say the words and I'll go. But you need me too. You need a mate as much as I do." The corners of her mouth quivered slightly as she grew worried that he would indeed tell her to leave and that she'd have to return up to that cliff with the drop and plead herself not to think about whether or not she'd ever know she'd reached the bottom.

The DI opened his mouth, then hesitated and closed it again. He stared hard at her, the gears in his head turning. He had to say something, but seeing him wouldn't help her, and it definitely wouldn't make things for him easier either. So, instead of saying anything he opened the door wider and took a step back.

"Are you inviting me in, then?" she asked, glancing from his face to where his hand still held the door handle.

"Only if you answer a question for me," he replied on an instantaneous impulse. Quickly, he regretted it, knowing that if she answered 'okay' he would have to feed her a question that would satisfy him into believing it was okay to harbour feelings for a woman who he was unhealthy for. And by feelings, he meant platonic, mate-like feelings that one would feel towards a sister or cousin, of course.

"Alright," Rose nodded. "What is it?"

Shite. Now he had to think of some reasonable question that wasn't too straightforward, nor too idiotic. If he grew some bollocks and asked her why her mum had talked to him (when she thought he was the Doctor) like _he_ had left on his own accord she might storm off and refuse to see him ever again. But, that was what he wanted, was it not? Yet, the thought of never learning every mystery, every hidden fact, and every truth about Rose Tyler seemed like an opportunity wasted to go on a fantastic journey within one of the most intriguing women he's ever met. Then again, something idiotic would be a question like 'What's your favourite colour?'…however the more he thought about that question, the more he didn't think it would be so idiotic afterall because he'd know what her favourite colour was. One truth out of so many. Priceless. "Do you only see me for what he was?" Even more important than whether or not the Doctor was a lie or a mistruth. Even more important than her favourite colour. Something he needed to know so he wouldn't fall in love with her.

Rose grimaced and looked down at the ground. "I'd thought you'd might ask me that."

"Then answer it," he murmured.

How could she even begin to explain to him that he was nothing like the man she loved? That he wasn't brave nor heroic, but he was there for her—something the Doctor never could accomplish in his entire lifetime. "The Doctor and I never kissed properly, nor did he ever meet Tony. He never told me about any of his past relationships, nor did he ever see me at my worst. But, you did. And I want you as my friend…I want you to do even more things he never got to do, yeah? Not to replace him, but to finish what he couldn't. I don't want to forget about him, I want to remember you both as separate men who both touched my life in different ways. The Doctor and the Detective," she smiled with tears in her eyes, "the dynamic duo.

"So," she ventured on, "will you let me in?"

He did.


	8. Chapter 7: Sierra

_Listen to: "Marathon (In Roses)" by Gem Club or "The Parting Glass" by Emily Kinney and Lauren Cohan_

* * *

 ** _Chapter 7: Sierra_**

* * *

He didn't have a telly, so the sofa the pair sat on faced an unexceptional painting of a clifftop lighthouse. Neither had uttered a word since Hardy had gestured for Rose to sit and then politely asked her if she had wanted any tea (which she had declined).

Rose cleared her throat. "So, off of work, then?"

The Detective nodded and rubbed his hands together, sitting uncomfortably straight.

"What do you usually do when you're off?" she asked, attempting to engage the reclusive man into a conversation.

"Work," he replied, clipped.

He was making this so difficult on her. She decided that if he wouldn't speak freely, she would. She would natter his ear off, so be it. "In my free time I read." As expected, he didn't make any sort of response to her statement so she continued. "I'm reading this one book right now, _Silas Marner_ by George Eliot." The last thing she wanted to do was talk to him like she had that night of the bluffs. She…she wanted to see if they had more things in common than just their depression towards life. No _The Time Traveler's Wife_ or his issues with his ex-wife. None of that. Just small talk—normality. "It's about an old man in small town who lives his life secluded from everyone else. Super hard to read, 'cause it's 19th century stuff, you know? But I like it so far."

"I read sometimes," spoke Alec.

Surprised to hear his voice say something other than obligatory responses or statements, Rose turned his head towards him.

"When I'm not working," he added soon after.

A wide smile crossed her face as she nodded. "Yeah, I figured."

Becoming more comfortable sitting next to Rose, he relaxed his body from the stiffness previous. "I had to read _À la recherche du temps perdu_ in school and I rather liked it."

"What's that translate to?" she prodded him to continue speaking.

" _Remembrance of Things Past._ It's seven volumes of man's life. Rather impossible to read; it's over four thousand pages."

"You're kidding? How long is each volume?"

"Too long, I'd say," Hardy smirked. "I read the last volume in school _: Time Regained_."

Rose's mouth grew dry. Of course he would like such a reflective book. It seemed like something _he_ would like. "And what was that like?"

He shrugged. "I enjoyed it. Pretty much about him facing World War I and coping with it."

A few seconds passed by.

"I want to be able to talk to you about stuff that isn't so serious, you know?" she relayed truthfully to him. "'Cause that's what mates do, right?"

He nodded, but inside he was afraid he wouldn't ever be able to speak to her about things casually. He and Mi—Ellie only ever spoke of work or tedious things like the weather. What did mates talk about then, if not boring things like the weather? They fact that he had not the faintest idea worried him even more. He hadn't been out with mates in years and years. If his mate were a lad, he'd assume something like sports or something, but Rose was a lass and they typically didn't fancy sports, or did they? Tess didn't ever really, nor did his daughter, but he wasn't really sure with Rose. Oh, he was gonna fuck it up.

"You and Ellie only ever talk about work, don't you?" Rose inferred from the way he strangely looked at her.

"Well," he wondered, still trying to think of how his life had become so…dull. Dull? Didn't he like it that way? Dull was safe. Dull was of the ordinary. But, dull was most certainly not Rose Tyler, and he knew he quite liked her.

"I'll take that as a no," she laughed.

Hardy gave her a sheepish look.

"Well, me and this bloke I used to know would play this game called Twenty Questions. And we would ask one another twenty questions, you know, to get to know one another better," she suggested to him, thinking of how she and Mickey would sit on the stairs of the estate and ask each other questions for hours, never seeming to run out.

The thought of being on the spot made him extremely uncomfortable. "You start," he replied.

"Alright," she smiled as she turned her body towards him. "I already know your favourite book…so, what's your favourite song?"

Perhaps that wouldn't be too difficult for Hardy, as long as each question was as simple and…safe. "Oh, um, 'Over and Done With' by the Proclaimers is a good one."

"You like the 90's then, eh?" she scrunched up her nose at him.

"Oi, that's an eighties song!" he playfully defended. "I'd never willingly listen to the nineties, mind you. Too much angst."

"You, too much angst?" with a smirk on her lips, she quipped. "You know," she continued, "My dad loves the eighties."

Hardy let out a loud laugh. "Oh, stop it. I'm not that old." While she was only joshing him, he fretted over whether or not age mattered to her. How old was that Doctor lad?

Rose gave him a toothy smile. "Yeah, you are."

When Alec didn't give any sort of clever retort because he was too occupied attempting to solve the mystery of the Doctor's age by trying to sort comments the Tyler family had made towards the lad, it bothered her—she assuming that he had thought her comments towards his age rude. "So, uh," she began to change the subject. "What's your question for me then?"

"Ah, right," he remembered. "Can I copy your questions? Are there rules about that?"

She giggled and shook her head. "No, there aren't any rules, Alec."

He nodded in confirmation. "Alright, then I raise the same question you asked me."

"Well, I don't exactly have a favourite song, really. I mean, I like too many to pick just one," Rose rambled. "But," she continued, "there's this new song I found by accident on iTunes called 'Polly' by Gem Club."

He cocked an eyebrow. "By accident?"

"I accidentally clicked that song rather than 'Polly' by Nirvana," she explained with a chuckle.

"Ohhh, you like the angst then?" he asked, amused.

"Oh shove it, you like the eighties."

Raising his hands in a faux surrender, he smiled. "Alright, draw. Both are equally pretty horrendous."

"New question, then!" Rose clapped, excited that her game had worked on him. "Favourite programme. And don't get me that load of crap that you don't watch telly often. Everybody's watched some TV."

"Well," Hardy tilted his head back and forth, "Yeah, suppose." He sighed and scratched his head while he thought about it. "I dunno, I used to watch _The_ _A-Team_ a lot when I was lad."

Rose knocked her head back and laughed. " _The_ _A Team_? You're joking! What's with you and the eighties?!"

"Oi, then what's your favourite programme then, eh?"

"Well, I remember when my mum and I would sit in front of the telly and watch _Ab Fab_ when I was little. And she'd always say I shouldn't be watching it with her, but she'd never make me leave." Her face softened at the fond memory.

"Your mother _would_ like that show," he teased.

She nodded somberly and looked away. "She wasn't the best, but she tried, you know?"

"At least you had your da, right?"

Rose's head snapped back to look at him. She could never tell him. Alec would never know. "Yeah, I had my good ole' dad."

Hardy smiled softly at her before reaching over and gingerly patting her on her bare knee. He, of course being himself, immediately regretted it, jerking his hand away from her leg in a hurry. "So, on to the next question then?"

She glanced from his face to the spot on her skin where his hand has just been, then back to his face. She bit back her dismay of what he must of thought was an obvious mistake, apparently, with a clear of the throat. "Right. Uhm, favourite food, I guess?"

"Oh, definitely black pudding," he immediately answered.

Rose scrunched up her nose and shook her head. "No thanks on that."

"You've never had it, then?"

"Not planning on it either, Scot-man."

"Oh come on! With some eggs and beans, yeah?"

She looked positively horrified. "There's pig blood in it!"

"It's not like you can taste it!"

"No."

"It's not just a Scottish thing, you know," Alec reminded her.

"Nope. Never gonna happen. I'll stick to chippys, thank you very much."

"So, there's no point in asking what your favourite food is, then?"

"Chips, forever and always," she laughed, sticking her tongue between her teeth.

"Fine then, my question is: would you eat black pudding if I asked you ever-so nicely?"

Rose couldn't halt the blush that rose on her face. "If me eating pig blood would make you happy, then yes, I suppose I would try it," she coyly smiled.

Satisfied with her answer, he replied: "I believe it's your turn, then."

"Alright…" She thought of something she could ask him. "Have you ever left the country? Like on holiday or anything?"

He shook his head no. "Single mum and then a policeman's salary? Never had the money."

To Rose, that seemed like herself all of those years ago when she worked in the shop. Never left London in her life, never seen the beach or the stars or an endless mountain range. "You know, if you want to go anywhere, all you have to do is ask me. I'll take you anywhere you want." She knew she probably shouldn't have offered that to a man she'd only known since Wednesday, but she meant it. She felt as though she was taking the Doctor's place, offering travels to an acquaintance on the basis of a feeling. But, when she said anywhere and _he_ said anywhere, it was so different. She meant something like New York City or Athens, and he meant 1987 London or New New Earth. Oh, what she'd give to have that power back. The power to see what the Earth was like this time in a hundred years, or witness the evolution of man himself.

"I…" But Alec didn't know what to say to that. He couldn't go traveling with Rose Tyler! He'd be…cheating. Using her for her money and stuff like that. Right? Plus, he had a real job and a house, and…okay he had no one. Hardy had a desk job and a shabby chalet. Hardy had not a single speck of family. But, like he said before: he'd be using her for her money. And that was never right to do to someone.

But, was he _really_ using her for her money? When he first saw her, he didn't recognise her (while she recognised him, of course), nor did he ever want her to spread some of her wealth towards him. He wanted to make sure she was safe, and well, and…what _had_ he wanted? He wanted to keep seeing her. Not because of money, but because he fancied her. He fancied the way she talked to him (like he was a friend and someone she cared extraordinarily about). He fancied the way her stitches lined the temple of her head in a neat curve, and she hadn't a care in the world what they looked like. He fancied the way she followed him out into the darkness on the cliff and let him kiss her and shouted at him for doing such (even though he really, truly, did it for him). He fancied the way she ate chips like no other, with salt and vinegar (never red sauce). And he definitely knew he fancied her beauty, and she was ever so handsome. So lovely, in every sort of light, in every sort of clothing, in every sort of state.

However, she could never, under any sort of circumstances, know that he fancied her, because she'd only fancy him back because he looked like that Doctor lad. And, what hurt Hardy the most—what made his shoulders sag and his mouth upturn—was that she only invited him for that very fact: because he was a bloody doppelgänger with, apparently, the luckiest lad in Great Britain. Next thing he knew she would be asking him to dress more like him, or loose the accent. Trying to model him after _him_. Taking him off to the see the world to the same places _he_ took her. So, while he wanted to say yes, and he wanted her to look at him and see no one else but himself, he knew without _him_ , he'd never have met her. They would have passed each other on the street, not taking any sort of notice. So, for that he had a great debt owed to the Doctor for introducing him to his best friend. That was why when all he wanted to say was yes, his only answer for her was one of a forced smile: "I have a job, and I hardly ever get off. Apparently, I'm important."

"Oh, yeah, duh," Rose nodded with thin lips, thinking _of course_ and _how could she think any different of an answer from him?_. "I would say detectives are important," she weakly laughed, but really at herself for being so hopeful and ever-so _needy_. What must he think of her? Already asking about their future together? He thought them both as mates, she was sure (which they were). Alec must have felt completely put on the spot by her desperate statement. "It's your turn, now," she smiled sadly up at him.

He knew that she was taking his rejection towards her offer harshly by the way she kept looking down at the space between them, and he wanted to do nothing more than explain to her that he didn't mean it, that he thought she was fantastic and he now knew that he there was no way he could eat chips ever again without thinking of her. "I believe I am out of questions." Second lie Alec Hardy told that day to Rose Tyler.

Second lie Rose Tyler believed that day from Alec Hardy. "Oh, come on! You must want to ask me something."

She looked at him as though he really didn't want to know anything about her. But she was so wrong. He wanted to know everything about her now, not just things to help him fall out of love. He wanted to know things that _should_ make him fall out of love, but only make him think about her more—things that would make him seem crazy to others for being so utterly fascinated by her.

And, he wanted to ask her, above everything else, simply how long she was gonna stay. Yet, he couldn't bare knowing the answer. What if she was leaving tomorrow? Or leaving the next day? Or the next? He'd dread that day more than he'd dread seeing his doctor. He'd forever remember that day as the day Rose Tyler departed. For the good of her, he supposed. To go back to London to meet a pretty boy with a timeshare or maybe to go back to London to just be plain ole' incredible Rose who didn't need any escort with a penthouse in Prague.

So, yes. She was right. He did want to ask her something. He wanted to ask her a million somethings. "Uh, favourite flower?" _Oh my god._ That was probably the stupidest thing he had ever said. Favourite flower? Not bad information to have…if he was planning on dating her! Someone didn't ask their mate what their favourite flower was! Oh, he was utterly humili—

"'In all the flowers that e'er I've had, Roses they sang of all today,'" she cut off his internal scorning with what seemed to be a poem. "'And, all the roses that e'er I've had,'" Rose continued, "'None sang most than the pink young stray. Her joy it rang within the plot, Where it found cure in the lone sot. So English rose be with us all, To help us through the climb and fall.'"

Hardy shook his head in bafflement. It sounded familiar to him for some reason, but he was confused on how what she was saying related to the answering of his question.

"It's a poem my mum used to tell me before I went to bed," Rose explained herself rather sheepishly, anxiously fidgeting.

"So your favourite flower then…?"

She grinned at herself. "'English Rose'—those roses by David C.H. Austin?—'cause it's too good and ironic to be anything else, 'course."

English Rose. He had to remember that. But, it wasn't like he'd ever _need_ to remember it. Still, he admitted that he liked knowing. Just like he liked knowing over the next course of questions that she went to Kingsdale (which she hated, saying everyone thought they were better than her), that her favourite colour was pink, that she was absolutely terrified of small places (which he thought was interesting, seeing she lived in London), that she had never had a pet ('cause the estate never allowed them when she was growing up), and that if she could change one choice she had made in her past, she'd take her A-levels and go onto uni.

She, in turn, learned that Alec's pet peeve was when people talked to other people while on the telephone, that his favourite colour was red, that he did have more clothes than just his wrinkled work clothes (that he was wearing that day, mind you), that he had loads of pets until his father died, and that if he could change one choice he had made in his past, he'd try to fix whatever he did to break the relationship between him and his daughter. "I'm sure it was nothing _you_ did," Rose told him.

He sighed and looked reluctant to continue. "Tess and I were working on a case at the time I found out. She had a piece of evidence she was taking back to the station but she made a stop to meet up with her…lad. And the accused ended up breaking into her car and taking it, which left Tess under the heat. So I…I took the responsibility for it." Alec sniffed his nose once quick and locked his jaw. "So I became the worst detective in Britain."

Taking the blame for something he didn't do, maybe she had been very wrong. He was a hero. Sure, he didn't face Daleks and laugh or destroy an army of Cybermen, but he did something completely selfless without thinking of the consequences. Something _he_ did every day. "You loved her. She was your wife."

"I suppose I got the short end of the stick there," he chuckled desolately.

And there was the difference between Rose and Alec. He was reminded every day that his wife had left him on her terms, had left him because she hadn't loved him, while Rose knew that if it wasn't for her stupid arse not being able to hang on to a rail, she'd still be with the Doctor because he'd never leave her because he didn't love her. She knew the Doctor loved her. Enough to burn up a sun just to say goodbye. After everything she still believed in him, but after everything Alec believed in no one. "Maybe it's all about how you move forward, yeah?"

"Rose, how long are you gonna stay in Broadchurch?"

 _"_ _How long are you going to stay with me?"_

 _"_ _Forever."_

Rose grinned painfully. "I believe it's my turn."

"Just answer it," Hardy rushed.

"I don't know," she said. "Depends on how long my parents want to stay, I suppose."

Hardy nodded, very much dissatisfied with the answer. He needed a timeline. He needed a countdown to make sure he spent his time with Rose efficiently, because after she left, he'd never see her again. And he'd once again be alone.

"Now, since you skipped me, I have a question for you."

"Yeah, alright."

"How long do _you_ want me to stay?"

She was asking him how long he wanted her stay? He didn't know how long he wanted her stay! What he did know, however, was that he'd never be able to spend enough time with Rose to feel fulfilled because he knew that after she left (not just his chalet, but Broadchurch too) he'd feel completely austere, just like before. "I guess until you leave," was his only answer.

She couldn't help but laugh because only Alec Hardy to produce an answer so easy it was enough. "Until I leave, then?"

Hardy shrugged but then was completely caught off guard when Rose engulfed him a hug, burrowing her face in the crook of his neck.

"You're such a simple man," she sighed.

He nervously rested his hands on her back and stared straight ahead. "So, you'll stay until you leave then?"

Rose chuckled. "The definition of staying requires that, so yeah," she said.

And he couldn't help but smile.

#

Neither counted, but they got to eleven questions by the end of the hug when Rose decided she best get home so Tony had someone to play with that wasn't stiff-old.

And when she left, Hardy had been right—he did feel a bit more austere.


	9. Chapter 8: Edge

_Listen to: "In Flight" by Michael Harrison or "Clara?" by Murray Gold_

* * *

 ** _Chapter 8: Edge_**

* * *

Managing to sneak out after her parents went to bed to retrieve _The Time Traveler's Wife_ from her hiding spot was significantly easier than the night previous when she had attempted to sneak back in after being out for hours upon hours unnoticed. Having not touched the book since then, she easily found where she had left off in the middle of the prologue, as Henry's voice neared.

 _Henry: How does it feel? How does it feel? Sometimes it feels as though your attention has wandered for just an instant. Then, with a start, you realize that the book you were holding, the red plaid cotton shirt with white buttons, the favorite black jeans and the maroon socks with an almost-hole in one heel, the living room, the about-to-whistle tea kettle in the kitchen: all of these have vanished. You are standing, naked as a jaybird, up to your ankles in ice water in a ditch along an unidentified rural route. You wait a minute to see if maybe you will just snap right back to your book, your apartment, et cetera. After about five minutes of swearing and shivering and hoping to hell you can just disappear, you start walking in any direction, which will eventually yield a farmhouse, where you have the option of stealing or explaining. Stealing will sometimes land you in jail, but explaining is more tedious and time-consuming and involves lying anyway, and also sometimes results in being hauled off to jail, so what the hell._

Rose gulped, her back pressed against corner of her room, and continued to read Henry explain what it felt like to jump forwards and backwards in time with no control—no logic.

But the last sentence of his voice, after all of the cruel humour and irony of his life, made her cry so very hard…so very hard that she started to wonder if she continued to read something so viciously akin because she enjoyed the soreness and the stinging.

 _I hate to be where she is not, when she is not. And yet, I am always going, and she cannot follow._

Just like he said. So uncanny, her life was of fiction. Made her wonder sometimes if she'd dreamt it all. But, then she looked at her dad and Tony and knew they were proof of his doing. Proof that he is going, and not just in her mind.

 _"_ _You can spend the rest of your life with me, but I can't spend the rest of mine with you. I have to live on. Alone. That's the curse of the Time Lords."_

She could never follow, and that was quite alright. It would always be alright. Because she knew he'd find someone else—someone like Sarah Jane. And they'd love him just as she did. Then they'd also leave, and he'd go onto another, and then another. She hoped that if she taught him one thing, over the time she'd known his two faces, that he should never, ever, be alone. Because, no one should.

She knew if he were there, that very moment, he'd ask her why she was alone, if no one was supposed to be alone. She'd probably give an excuse that she only ever wanted him. But, she was sure he wanted her more than anything else too. And that was quite alright. The universe didn't want them, and that would always be alright. Because she had found someone else. _Her_ companion. And he was her proof that she'd be alright. Always alright. She didn't need some bloody book to relive her past. She didn't want to relive her past. She wanted to be able to see her future. For so long, she didn't want to know her future. She wanted it to stop so she'd never experience anything after him. But, he taught her to be always brave; to never, ever, quit; to never, ever, say never; and most of all, that paradoxes were ever-so amusing.

And it was still alright when she closed the book and left her corner. And it was still alright when she became a solid five.

#

Seeing Rose once again cheery the following morning was an extremely hopeful sign to her parents, they knowing her usual spouts of good moods never lasted extremely long. Pete felt a sense of pride knowing his decision to bring the family to Broadchurch ended up helping his daughter more than he had even hoped.

"Happy father's day, dad," Rose bid as soon as she set eyes on Pete sitting at the kitchen counter while walking down the short staircase.

Referring to him specifically as dad, and not Pete as previous years, made a grin emerge onto his face. "Thank you, Rose!"

She came over to him and kissed him on his head before rummaging through the cabinets looking for something to eat for breakfast.

"Actually," he turned around, "your mum is picking up stuff from the bakery this morning. She should be back any time soon."

"Really?" Rose asked, taken aback, as she glanced over to the wall clock. "Quite early for her to be out of bed and going, yeah?"

"Quite early for you too, Rosie," he countered with a smirk.

"Oh sod off, old man," she teased, plopping down next to him at the counter.

He shut his laptop in order to give his daughter more attention. "You finish that book you were reading?"

The lie had to fit. "Yeah, I finished it last night actually, it was really good! Thank you for the money to buy it."

"O' course."

"What do you want to do your father's day?"

"Oh, probably just spend time with you lot," he smiled.

Rose reached her hand over a tapped on his laptop. "Work?"

"Yeah," he waved his hand dismissively.

"Everything all right?"

"Rose," he said warningly.

Being completely shut out of Torchwood after Mickey never returned irked her more than anything, even still, because out of all of her dad's agents, she was the most qualified. "So, where's Tony? He not up yet?" she immediately changed the subject.

"Remember, I took him to the beach yesterday morning. He was plum tired."

"Oh, yeah," she remembered. "He talked about how he buried you in sand all night last night."

"It was all the way up my arse. Took ages to clean out!"

Rose burst out laughing. "Ew! Ohmygod!"

Her dad laughed along with her. "Itched like hell I tell you."

"TMI!" she waved her hands.

Their laughing died over the next few moments before they sat in content silence. "So, you didn't really talk that much about going over to Detective Hardy's," Pete awkwardly began.

"I know what you and mum think, it wasn't like _that_. Promise. We're just mates. We sat on his sofa and talked. That's it."

He nodded, a bit of relief. "But, you know if you and him did, that would be perfectly—"

"Dad!" she interrupted him swiftly. "I know, you've told me! No lecture about it, please."

"Alright, alright. I'm just worried about you, 's all. I don't want you to look at him and see _him_ and expect _him_."

"But I don't," she shook her head, "I thought it would. I thought that I…I thought that I would see him and see _him_ and I'd get to hear the last words from him that I never got to the first time." She paused. "But I don't. I see a horribly bitter detective with a scruffy beard, scraggly hair, wrinkly clothes, and…someone who's alone. _He_ was alone when I met him. He was bitter and wrinkly and ever-so brave…"

"So what are you saying?" her father asked.

"I'm sayin' that _he_ needed me, and he needs me. Not to ever change him, but to make him a better man than he already is, you know?"

The doorbell interrupted their conversation. "It's your mother, wanting me to open the door for her," Pete sighed, rising from his seat.

Rose became confused. "But, isn't it unlocked?"

"Yep," he said popping the 'p', heading towards the door anyways.

She chuckled lightly to herself before remembering her father's laptop was sitting right next to her. No, she didn't have enough time…did she? She decided she probably didn't, but that didn't halt her from eying it while her father opened the door and led her mum into the kitchen with two paper bags full of pastries. She immediately turned her attention to the apparently switched off telly in the other room once her parents entered.

"Oh, I see that you're finally up!" Jackie huffed once she saw Rose sitting at the counter staring at the blank telly. "Had to wait in the line for a good 20 minutes before even ordering! Everybody in the whole bloody town seemed to be there!"

"Love, I told you I'd go," Rose's dad sighed, taking the bags from his wife and setting them on the counter.

Rose turned to look at the commotion.

"No, of course not!" her mother insisted. "It's father's day!"

Pete shot his daughter a look of amusement and she only shrugged.

"But, while I was there in that line for bloody 30 minutes some lady was talking to me and mentioned something about a Midsummer Festival going on tonight at the beachfront! Wouldn't that be fun?!"

Pete mumbled a "mhm" while rummaging around in the packages from the bakery.

"Midsummer Festival?" Rose crinkled her nose. "Isn't that like a Swedish thing?"

Jackie noticed her husband's rummaging and quickly slapped his hand. "For the love of god, get a plate!" Then to Rose, casually: "Who cares? Maybe they'll have candy floss!"

Rose rolled her eyes while her dad reluctantly put down the bags of food to go get plates.

"Maybe you can invite that Detective man!" she pointed out to her daughter.

"I thought you said you didn't trust him," Rose said, amused.

"Well, maybe you can get him to get a haircut," her mother quipped.

She snorted. "Yeah, wouldn't that be a sight."

"You could always convince him to get a cut like the Doctor," Jackie hummed without thinking.

Pete stopped in his tracks with plates in hand, eyes becoming wide and glancing back and forth unsettlingly between his daughter and wife.

Rose knew her mother hadn't meant anything by it, nor had heard the conversation between herself and her dad. So, she let it go with a quick chuckle. "Maybe."

"So, would you want to go, Pete?" Jackie turned.

Assured that a crisis was averted with Rose, he continued on his way. "If that's what all you lot want to do, that's fine by me. I'm good with just relaxing and watching the sunset."

"Oh good!" Jackie clapped. "It'll be so romantic! We haven't had something like that in forever, Pete!"

Romantic? Rose's heart began to flutter. She hadn't even thought of that! She couldn't run into Alec there, much less invite him! It would all get so confused… _she_ would get all confused. He had made it very clear from the beginning. They were mates. That kiss on the cliff was a mistake, just like he had said. Their relationship mirrored that of her and the Doctor: mates only (with some mixed feelings on both sides, naturally). Romance was…tricky to say the least. Plus, she didn't see Alec as anything other than a mate, right? To say that she had mixed feelings about him would imply that she viewed him any other than a mate…like Jack Harkness or Jake Simmonds. Casual, drink a pint with, share a laugh with, mates.

So why did her heart flutter?

#

She had no idea why she was even bothering walking all the way to Hardy's chalet to hear him decline. She knew he would, 'cause that's what her partner did—stupid bloody things like stalk pretty women and refuse to call her Stevens. But, Ellie did what all Stevens do best, she supposed: nagged. She would bloody nag him until he came with her to the festival and had some popcorn, complained a bit, and thoroughly acted like a complete arse before returning back to his chalet to chuck razors into the water (or something of the like, she wasn't quite sure what he did alone all the time).

When she knocked the first time, he didn't answer, though she could clearly see him through the window rummaging through a case box. She was gonna kill him. Instead of knocking the second time, she pounded her fist on his door while glaring at him through the window. She saw his shoulders relax as he sighed. Oh, he had better come and answer his front door before she pissed all over his doormat.

He was deliberately slow as he glanced over his shoulder at the door, noticing Ellie's cross face in the window, and then made his way to open his door. "Stevens," he acknowledged with not quite his usual frown—it seemed a bit lighter, he seemed all most a bit happier.

"You're right," she scrunched up her nose. "I don't quite like that."

"Oh, I'm right?" Hardy grinned, amused, leaning up against the frame of the door.

"Oi!" Ellie pointed at him. "Don't get used it."

"Come on, I know you better than that," he said.

"You never take a day off of oxfords and trousers, do you?" she gestured to his dress.

"You don't hear me knocking your sidesaddle."

Ellie frowned and clutched her bag a bit closer to her. "Are you coming tonight?"

"To the festival?" her partner clarified. "No, wasn't planning on it. Why?"

"I just came to invite you along with myself, Lucy, and the kids, if you wanted."

"Lucy?" he groaned. "I think I'll raincheck that, Ellie."

"Suit yourself," she shrugged it off. Then, as she turned around to leave, she got an idea. "I guess Rose'll find someone else to speak with at the festival," she sighed. If Rose Tyler was the reason Hardy's frown had flattened into half of a smile, she would indeed become a matchmaker between the two of them, just so she didn't have to look at his scowl every day.

"Wait," he spoke up, as expected. "You think Rose'll be there?"

She had him. Turning around, she replied: "I'd assume so, yeah? I mean, they're on holiday, might as well go to the festival."

He gulped and looked down at his white oxford and black trousers. "This too professional, then?"

Ellie tried to suppress her grin. "How about you see if you have anything in the closet of yours that isn't black or white, and I'll come by with everyone before, yeah? Say six?"

"Mhm, yeah I suppose," he commented, only half-paying attention, beginning to visualise what exactly he had in his closet.

"See ya then," she waved, loving seeing the way his mood immediately had changed at the mention of Rose.

She walked off chuckling to herself, and when she came back at six with her family in tow (Lucy grumbling why they were bringing Hardy at all, 'cause she knew he would just complain the entire time), Hardy answered the door in a shirt and jeans and Ellie and Lucy promptly burst out in laughter.

"What?" he asked, looking down at himself. "What's wrong with this? You told me no oxford!"

"Hardy, I've never seen your arms before! In the two years I've known ya!" Lucy laughed.

"Do I look bad?"

"Just…different…Not sure how I feel about it really," Ellie answered.

The sound of a picture being taken was heard and Lucy, Ellie, Hardy, and Tom all looked to Olly standing behind them, typing away on his mobile. "Did you just snap a picture of me?" Hardy asked, bewildered.

"Yeah, for Twitter," Olly replied, waving his mobile at him. "If you had shaven, it might've trended."

"I blame you for that," Hardy pointed to Olly, but spoke to Lucy.

"Oi, don't blame him for making money off of the odd things you do! Someone should take advantage!" Lucy retorted.

"Should I change then?" he reiterated, tugging on his shirt.

"Shave while you're at it, I need eight more followers before I reach a thousand," Olly said, already back to typing.

" _No_ ," Ellie intoned, glancing at Olly. "You look fine, let's just _go_."

Hardy scowled and closed the door behind him.

#

She had made it very clear to herself that she'd at least ask, because, maybe he would go if someone had at least asked, you know? And plus, she wanted him there. Not to like stare into his eyes in front of the sunset or anything like that…but to get her to laugh and to talk to her with interest on his face, like always. That was one of her favourite things about him, actually. He never half-listened to her. When she spoke at length, he'd lean in just a few centimetres closer and stare at her face with this sort of raptness that told her that she was captivating to him. That he gave her all of his attention—made her feel special and enjoyed.

But thinking about that favourite thing, reminded her of her favourite thing about him: his facial hair. Rose had never actually dated a man with facial hair (not to say that she and Alec would ever _date_ or anything like that), but she liked it. It fit him. And she…wanted to know what it felt like. She had never touched a beard before! Her dad was always clean shaven, as was her bloke mates like Mickey, Jack, and Jake. Girls on TV always complained that beards were rough and itchy (Jackie from _That 70's Show_ ), but she thought it'd be completely perfect (and a bit cliché) if his beard was smooth and soft in an ironic parallel with his usually harsh personality.

And then there were his _hands_. The hand that had touched her knee the day previous, the hand that had pressed against her cheek while they kissed…she liked watching how his knuckles protruded as he moved his fingers, watching how his palms flitted across his trousers when he grew a bit awkward.

Only four days she had known him, but then again, she had known the Doctor for only a day before she took off with him. But that wasn't the same, that hadn't even felt like real life. Because, the Doctor was this mysterious character who could never sit still—could never be definite. And, Alec was. He was a fixed point in her life. He would always be there. No guesses, no assumptions, and definitely no timey-wimey. Sure, he wasn't exactly the romantic prince she'd seen in all of those Disney films, but he was real. He was her mate—so much more important than a boyfriend.

"He lives in a chalet?" her mother upturned her nose at the houses they passed on the way to his.

Rose rolled her eyes. "You have to be _nice_ , mum."

She scoffed. "You want me to _lie_? Say these wooden planks look _safe_?"

"Jackie, come on now," Pete said gingerly.

"I like it!" Tony hummed. "Look how close the water is! I could fish in my pyjamas!" He ran over to precariously close to the edge of the dock.

"Tony! What did I tell you just a minute ago?!" Pete grew quickly cross with his son, walking over to snatch him away from the edge.

"What would happen if you drowned?! Hm?! Your father bloody sinks!" Jackie squawked.

"Rose would save me!" he cheered.

"Not if she was too busy snogging her boyfriend, no she wouldn't!" his mum shook her head.

" _Mum_! He can probably bloody hear you, you're so _loud_!" Rose interjected intently through gritted teeth.

"Language, Rose!" her mum reminded her, not paying any sort of attention to what her daughter had just told her.

"Oh shove off it! You'd be cross too if you had a mother as loud as you!"

"Alright, now Rose, that's no way to talk to your mother," Pete shook his head at her, while keeping an iron grip on Tony's shoulder.

"Sorry, mum," she apologised on instinct while looking ahead, eventually spotting Alec's blue clapboard chalet around the corner. She pointed, saying: "There it is! That one right there!" She whirled around, startling her family into stopping before the gate. "You lot stay here. I'll be back."

"I wanna see Alec!" Tony whined.

"You'll see him in just a tick! I'm gonna go get him!" she explained to her brother.

"Well, go on then," her mother gestured. "Hurry up and get your copper boyfriend."

She gave her mum a dirty look before continuing on to approach his chalet. But, once observing his dark window, she gathered that he wasn't home—turning back and returning to her parents with a thick throat and sunken heart.

"Wasn't home?" her dad assumed.

She shook her head. He wasn't exactly the type to go to any kind of festival, so she began to wonder where he might be. Perhaps the station? Oh, bloody hell he worked too much. On a Sunday, now? But…what if he wasn't at work? What if he was out? Maybe even with someone? A girl someone? Someone not her? Fuck, what if he was at the festival with that girl someone? Maybe he had a girlfriend he hadn't told her about, or a _wife_. She had just assumed everything he had said to be the truth. _The Doctor lies_. Perhaps for her own good like at Satellite Five and Canary Wharf, but he lied. He had lied to her, and Alec had probably already lied to her about something. A secret girlfriend? Yeah, that'd be her lu—

"Oh, he's probably already there. Knowing Ellie she probably dragged him along," Jackie said, making Pete chuckle.

Ellie! Of course! But how would she have persuaded him to come along with her? He seemed like he hated big masses of people, so why…oh, of course. Ellie had told him _she_ would be there, because Ellie knows people and she was right.

#

He hated the beach. The sand in the air. The large throng of bodies. How uncomfortable he felt in jeans. Olly's obsession with getting as many pictures of Hardy doing something conventional. The fact that Ellie had been completely wrong and Rose and her droll family were nowhere to be found.

"Fred! Stop throwing sand for Christ's sake!" Ellie shouted at her son who was chucking hand fulls of sand into the air, making it catch the wind and blow right into her and Tom.

"You have any kids, Hardy?" Lucy asked, observing Ellie seize little Fred's arm and forcefully make him dump the sand in his hand back onto the ground.

"I have a daughter. She's fifteen," he answered, focusing less on the question and more on scanning the crowd of people for a blonde.

"Hmph. And how does that go?" she responded in a voice that said 'he's probably a shite father'.

"She hates me," he mono-toned.

"Yeah, I bet," she muttered under her breath before heading over to help Ellie with Fred.

He should just head back. All he's done was follow Ellie and her family around the booths set up, letting her fill up Fred with sugar, and then watch as Ellie slowly started to regret it…leading to the sand.

The sun was beginning to fall and Hardy had to work in the morning. If he headed back, he'd probably be in bed by nine. Which wasn't shabby seeing as he had to be up in the morning at six. Maybe he could stop at the chippy on the way home…nah, he'd change _then_ go to the chippy. He didn't think he could stand another second being looked at by everyone like he was sprouting antlers.

"Ellie!" a woman shouted. The group turned and saw Beth and Mark Latimer heading over, Beth carrying the new baby, Lizzie, in a carrier.

Oh shite. He should really head back. He didn't think he could put up with the Latimers too on top of Lucy and Olly.

"Hey! You lot want to trade?" Ellie called, gesturing to a Fred currently refusing to stand from up from the ground. "They're so lovely at that age!"

Small talk. He should really change his biggest pet peeve. Small talk was the absolute worst after rude people on the phone and sand in your bum. It was just so… _blah_. Why couldn't normal people just stand to be silent for more than a few moments without feeling obligated to say something?

"Detective Hardy! Surprised to see you here!" Mark said to him. "And in casuals too!"

"Bucket list," Hardy deadpanned. "Can check it off now."

Mark snorted and nodded. "Yeah, seems like it. You're gonna definitely be the talk of the town."

"Oh, I'd thought you'd learned by now, I seem to always be the talk."

"Mark," Tom began, approaching the two men, "do you wanna go see if they have footballs?"

"Yeah, 'course, mate!" Mark grinned, patting the lad on the back. "Ellie!" he called to his wife, who was in a conversation with Ellie and Lucy. "I'm gonna go with Mark!"

Ellie glanced and nodded quickly, not really ever leaving her conversation.

"Olly, do you wanna come with me and Mark to play a game?" Tom asked his cousin.

Olly shook his head no and said "maybe later, Tom", hardly ever looking up from his mobile—Tom and Mark decidedly walking off.

Hardy gave Olly a look of disbelief at the fact that he was so self-absorbed with his _Twitter_ to even notice how incredibly lovely the sun looked in the sky. Rather slowly leaving it was, but not before confusing the colours between warm and cool. He'd never really given what colours the sky made much thought before. Blue sky, black sky, right? No, he had been so wrong. What's a word for something so peaceful it makes a man completely stop what he was thinking about before to focus in? He wanted a thesaurus to find him something that meant that, because sometimes words—even photos—can't describe a feeling. Can't describe a sentimental force's effects. If all of the children in the water had stopped splashing, and everything around it slowed (like it really should), he'd have probably been able to let his eyes turn the ocean into glass.

"Detective Inspector Alec Hardy, look at _you_. Wearing jeans and a shirt, hardly recognised you, you know," he heard _her_ voice faintly from a ways behind him.

Hardy couldn't help but grin as he turned from the horizon to see the ever-so pleasing Rose Tyler standing with her arms folded, looking at him as though she'd caught him red-handed.

"Took you long enough to show up, eh? Weren't at home when I dropped by, you know," she continued.

He felt himself being pulled towards her—couldn't help himself but move to stand closer. "How did you find my house that first day? You never told me," he asked as he walked.

"You ever asked," she replied.

"So tell me now," he stilled, looking down upon her.

"Ellie."

Hardy shook his head and glanced behind him to see Ellie look away from Lucy and Beth to give him a smirk and a nod. "Oh, I should've known," he said, looking back to Rose.

"Hunted her down so I could see where a man with one outfit lived. Half-expected a box I did," her eyes twinkled.

"Cardboard or wood?" he joked.

She tilted her head back and laughed, swaying a bit closer to him. "Wood, most definitely. A blue wooden box, 'course."

"Oh, like the one I live in now? That powdered piece?" he stuck in thumb in the direction of his chalet.

Rose laughed again, and he had no idea how he was ever going to let her go back to London without him following her every step of the way.

"How'd you recognise me then? If all I have is one outfit?" asked Hardy.

"Only you could stand and look at the water for so long and pretend you didn't love it."

The two just beheld one another after Rose's deafeningly accurate observation of her mate. She thought it was so _endearing_ that he had worn casuals, all the way down to his trainers that she had seen when he approached her. His red shirt that showed his _arms—_ she didn't quite know what to think of it all. She hadn't ever really seen the Doctor's arms before, or had she? She couldn't remember ever seeing 'em, always covered by a leather jacket or a trench. But she was happy she got to see them now. Even if on a completely different man. Because, she realised, that while she had never managed to break down _his_ walls, never quite was able to get him to say what he truly was all about, it was working with Alec. And she had never been more excited to see the end of the something come, but yet dread it too.


	10. Chapter 9: Aird

_Listen to: "Adagio for Strings" or "So Far" by Ólafur Arnalds_

* * *

 ** _Chapter 9: Àird_**

* * *

New report for Rose Tyler's 20 Questions: Hardy's pet peeve has now embodied Olly Stevens, and he only has minutes to live.

"Hello, Olly Stevens from _The Echo_ , nice to meet you," he came up from behind Hardy and stuck out his hand to Rose (note that the other still held his mobile).

Rose reluctantly shook it. "Hello, are you related to Ellie?"

"My aunt, actually," he nodded, dropping her hand. "And who are you?"

"Olly," Hardy turned to the lad, "I swear on your mother's life if you don't get away from—"

"Oi! Come on!" Olly flashed Rose a nice smile, interrupting Hardy. "This'll be good for the _community_ paper! Eh? Bitter Detective Hardy's relationship with a, if I should say, beautiful newcomer? Imagine it!"

Hardy just about opened his mouth to finally give Olly an unfiltered piece of his mind, but Rose jumped in, saying in just about the absolute politest voice he had ever heard: "Sorry, there's not really much to tell. We're not together."

"Oh," Olly flicked his eyes down and then back up to Rose's face, grinning. "Well, then I'm Olly. _Very_ nice to meet you. How long are you staying in town? I—"

His blood boiled in that very moment as he watched him _hit_ on Rose. "Okay, that's quite enough of that, now," Hardy snapped, trying to gauge Rose's reaction, but she still had the same smile plastered on from Olly's very first word. Did she like him? Olly? He wasn't exactly terrible looking, and around her age. Hardy didn't really want to think about Rose fancying someone else other than him. "Come on Olly, she's on holiday. You really that desperate?"

"Well, I think you're lovely," Olly said to Rose.

"A bit too young for me, don't you think?" she scrunched up her nose.

"Well…" he began.

"But, thank you," she cut him off, nodding.

"Right," Olly winced. "Well, follow me on Twitter anyhow. Olly Stevens! Remember the name!" He pointed to her.

"Oh, I will," Rose laughed, waving him off.

He got the hint and left the two alone, to the _great_ enjoyment of Hardy. "How'd you do that?" he asked her once they were alone (as it should).

"Do what?" she said, all too innocently.

"Shoot him down so politely!"

"Well," she shrugged, "I figured I'd let him down easy. How old is he, no more than twenty-three, no?"

"Yeah, well, that's Olly for you," Hardy frowned.

"What, not a fan of the press?" she grinned.

"Not at all."

"Good, neither am I."

She smiled widely at him and in one of those ways where he thought she truly fancied him. That she had just shot down the charismatic Olly Stevens in favour of him. He liked to think things like that—that he was as special to her as she was to him. "Where's your family?" he asked.

"Oh, I went off on my own looking for you, actually," she explained with a nervous giggle.

Maybe it wasn't just in his head, with things she said like that. Made him think that he was her priority, that he was special. "Did you need to…?" his voice drifted, seeing if she needed to go back to her parents.

"I'm a grown woman," she laughed, "I think I'll be fine."

"Yeah, 'course," he nodded.

"So, what did you want to do?"

Hardy tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, what did you want to do here?"

"Like, at the festival?"

"No, at the Buckingham Palace, yes at the festival," she playfully teased him.

He had to laugh at himself at that one. "Oh, yeah. Um, whatever you wanted to do."

"Well, do you want to get some chips? I passed the chippy booth back there," she pointed her thumb behind her up on the road, where various tents were set up.

He nodded. "I'd love to get some chips with you, Rose Tyler."

Suddenly her stomach dropped. _Rose Tyler_. Her full name. He said her full name. **Rose Tyler**. Always Rose Tyler. Always the same. A mantra. A chant. A song. Everything slowed and her name stayed the same. On the Doctor's lips he said just two words: "Rose Tyler."

 _"_ _Right then, Rose Tyler, you tell me. Where do you want to go?"_

 _"_ _Rose Tyler. I was going to take you to so many places."_

 _"_ _And you, Rose Tyler!"_

 _"_ _Rose Tyler, defender of the Earth..."_

 _"_ _Rose Tyler—"_

The last two words of him were her name. So important. So controlling. ROSE TYLER. Everywhere. She was him. **_ROSE_**. **_TYLER_**. She was his last, final word. She was feeling—

Done. Oh, **not** today. She was feeling _done_. Never again would she not have control. No more dreamless sleeps, no more hospitals, no more stitches, and definitely no more old men in book shops with specs and pinstripes. It was her and Alec, like it should. Now it is was them two against the world, and she definitely liked her odds.

"Rose?" Alec asked looking at her just as strangely as she looked at him. "Are you alright?"

She nodded but then paused and scrunched up her nose, saying: "Kind of hungry, actually."

"Hungry, yeah?" he laughed, assured she now was fine.

"Yeah," she nodded, sticking her tongue between her teeth.

"Then to the chips?" he pointed for her to start walking so he could follow.

"Yes, Inspector," she saluted before walking off.

He scrunched up his nose and followed her. "Oi, I don't think I like being called that."

"Too official for you?" Rose quipped.

"I dunno, just weird, I guess," was his only reply.

"You know," she drawled, "you could just say you prefer me to call you Alec. You don't have to be all cagey about it."

Hardy huffed under his breath. "Oh, but cagey's my middle name."

"Mine's Marion," she told him.

He looked down at her at that. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, Rose Marion Tyler. And you're Alec Cagey Hardy?" she smirked.

"Michael."

"Alec Michael Hardy," she hummed. "I like it. All two syllables; even."

He hadn't really given much thought on how many syllables that was. "Yeah?"

"Mine's one, three, two. All awkward, 'course." Rose was beginning to ramble.

"Just like you, hm?" he nudged her shoulder with his upper arm.

She took that brevity of contact as an invitation, so she linked her arm with his before he could even notice. "Don't be such a prat, _Inspector_."

He almost tripped over his feet when Rose bound her arm with his. Then, blushed profusely when she emphasised the word 'Inspector' with a drawl of 'n' that was horribly suggestive.

Rose began to notice rather quickly that the people passing them by were noticing her and Alec, some openly staring. "Do people know I'm...?" she asked him while still keeping an eye on the crowd they passed through on the way to the booth, letting her question falter at the end.

"Hm?" He looked the direction she was looking to and indeed saw the several festival-goers who were watching the couple with peaked interest. "Oh, no. They're all interested because of me."

"Well," Rose laughed, turning to look at him, "aren't you a bit vain?"

"They're interested because I'm me and you're you," he attempted to explain.

"And what's that mean?"

"It means that a grumpy old Detective is seen at a festival wearing jeans and trainers no less with a gorgeous blonde from out of town. It's gossip gold for this bloody small town," he bit.

"Gorgeous, hm?" she repeated, batting her eyelashes at him. Of course that was the only part she seemed to hear. The part he shouldn't have said.

"W—well yeah," he sputtered.

Rose laughed as he struggled, which he thought was quite cruel. "Oh, I'm only giving you a hard time. Besides, I think you're handsome as well."

"Yeah?"

"Oi, don't get a big-head, now," scolded Rose.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

She scoffed. "Mhm, sure you don't."

#

He had followed her after he had refused to let her buy her own chips to a bench far off from all of the festivities, sitting not too far from where her family was staying. (He secretly wished she would have grabbed hold of his hand on the way over.)

"Can I ask you a question, since we never properly ended our game yesterday?" she asked him while unfurling her newspaper that held the chips.

Hardy nodded. He had so many more questions he wanted to ask her.

She took a moment to continue, watching the lights on all of the booths down the road slowly begin to turn on as the sun sank deeper into the water. "Why don't you like chips?"

Chips? He had never told her he had hated them in the first place. "I do like chips," he replied.

"At the chippy," she explained, "you hardly touched your food, and you didn't get any tonight. You're rather a piss poor Scot."

He chuckled at that. "No, I do like chips, it's just…"

Rose raised her eyebrows and popped a chip into her mouth.

"I wasn't allowed to eat them for a while, you see."

"Oh, diet?" she scrunched up her nose.

He could tell her right now. He could tell her about everything, and he'd knew she'd listen. Listen better than anyone else in the entire world. Because that's what Rose Tyler did. She cared about him, and she listened. And, he wanted to. He wanted to tell her so badly. But, she didn't need to worry or fuss or become like his incident with Becca Fisher. No, that couldn't happen. He hated fussing and judging. People seeing him as weak. However, he knew Rose could never be that. He saw something so kind in her eyes, that even after only a few days of knowing her, he trusted her. He felt like he _knew_ her. Knew how she'd react: cool, calm, and collected. Maybe a crushing hug or a wide smile and nod. And she'd of course worry, because in Hardy's mind (fantasy) she loved him, so of course she'd worry about him. But, she'd never let him know that.

It might be his only chance to tell her, and he'd sure kick himself later if she found out from _Ellie_. "Yeah," he answered her question dryly. "I…" he gulped, "I actually would like to tell you something."

"Yeah?" She gave him that smile and nod and he knew he was right.

"I had to stop eating chips a couple years back because I found out I had, uhm, arrhythmia."

Arrhythmia? Wasn't that when someone's heart didn't beat right? Rose really wasn't sure. "Yeah?" she pretended like she knew exactly what he meant.

"You don't know what that is, do you?" he grinned, knowingly.

She giggled and shook her head. "Not exactly."

"The heart is like a machine, yeah? And it has these electrical impulses going to it, signaling it when to beat. But my impulses didn't work properly. Sometimes they'd make my heart beat too fast or too slow."

"And," her voice faltered and she put down the chip she had been holding in her finger since he had first told her, "are you alright now? Or are you going to be alright?"

"I got a pacemaker this past year," he tapped his index finger on the chest over his heart. "It'll do the job."

"No," she shook her head and set her chips down next to her on the bench. She moved to sit closer to him and put her hand where his finger just was. "I asked if _you_ were alright now."

He cut his eyes down to where her hand rested on his chest. "Well, like I said I got the—"

"No," she repeated. "How do _you_ feel?"

"I feel fine."

"Fine isn't an emotion, _Inspector_."

"Alec. Call me Alec," he breathed.

"Only if you tell me it made you feel. And you tell me if you're alright now."

He shifted on the bench. "What? You want me to cry to you, Rose? Is that it?"

"I want to carry it with you," she murmured.

"Carry what?"

"Your prison."

His eyes shot up to meet hers, wide. "I felt like I was gonna die. Die before I could make things right. And that just about killed me before my heart could."

"And how do you feel now?" she moved her hand from his chest up to cup his face.

A pause. "I feel sad."

"Why?"

"Because nothing's changed. I'm still here. My daughter still hates me—just a bit less now. I'm still alone. I still haven't eaten chips…"

Rose quickly took her hand off of his face (not before rubbing his beard briefly with her thumb) and turned to pick up a single chip in order to offer it to him. "If you eat this then two of those things will be different."

"Two?" he glanced between her and the chip.

"You should know by now that you're not alone," she smiled wryly.

"No," he shook his head, plucking the chip out of her grasp. "'Course not."

"How long's it been since you ate one of those?" she asked as she watched him twirl it around in fingers.

"About four years, give or take," he squinted at the golden-fried bit.

"How do you remember it tastin'?"

Alec looked up at her and laughed. "Salty."

"You'll have to tell me if tastes the same as it did in your head," she cut her eyes down to the chip.

He smiled softly and looked at the chip for a while long, before bringing it up to his lips and taking a bite. Rose watched him with interest as he chewed.

"Well?"

"It's still salty," he replied after swallowing.

" _No_!" she tilted her head back and laughed. "Is it better than it was in your head?"

Popping the rest of the chip into his mouth, Hardy thought about it. "I think it was better in my head," he finally said.

"Why?"

"Because in my head it was one of the things I couldn't have. And the grass is always greener."

"You're right," Rose nodded. "It really is." She took the package of chips and moved in order to place it between them. "A few more wouldn't hurt, would it?"

He shook his head and reached down to take some in his point. "I've been able to eat them for a while now."

"Then why haven't you?" she asked.

"I dunno, I guess I was hesitant to."

"Because you hadn't had 'em in so long?" she offered before taking a bite out of a chip.

He chewed on the chip he had placed in his mouth and shrugged.

"So," she began, swallowing her bite, "What else could you not have?"

"Anything 'unhealthy', really."

"So no fast food, then?"

"Nope."

"Oh hell," she laughed, "I would've died if it were me."

"You and your chips," he shook his head.

"Are soulmates," quipped Rose.

Alec snorted. "Oh, and couldn't drink that much."

"What's your alcohol of choice?" she asked before popping several smaller chips into her mouth.

"Alcohol of choice?" he grinned.

"Oh sod off, copper," she replied with a full mouth.

"I used to drink Heineken at the pub rather regularly."

"Hm, yeah you do seem like a beer kinda bloke."

"What sort of bloke is that?" he laughed.

"You know, the kind of bloke who hasn't heard of a razor," she joshed.

"Oi," he rubbed his beard with his hand, "You don't fancy it?"

"Eh, it's growing on me," she had to admit, letting her eyes roam over his face.

He played nervously with the chip he had just grabbed. "Can I ask you a question?"

Rose shrugged. "Uhm, sure. I mean, it is your turn."

"Right," he half-smiled. "Rose…uh—what I want to know, is—" He wanted to know what the Doctor was like. He wanted to know if the Doctor was like him. He didn't know how Rose'd react. though. If she'd take offence, or _cry_ , or tell Hardy exactly what he wanted to hear: that he was nothing like the Doctor and that she loved them both with all of her heart (he more-so than the other lad, of course). "What was he like?"

She immediately looked down at the chips sitting between them and swallowed thickly. "The Doctor?"

Hardy didn't answer her, because he knew that she knew who he was referring to.

"He…he was very bright." A pause. "And brave." Another pause, then a smile. "He wasn't quite like you. He didn't have the beard." She chuckled.

He weakly smirked.

Alec had told Rose of something extremely personal, and she never could tell him her secrets. Nothing of the Time Lords or the Tardis or the fact that the Doctor really wasn't dead. But, she had to give him something. Something of equal value. Something just as personal. "We were never together. Like that. I wanted to but…it was complicated on his end. He wasn't the domestic type."

That shocked Hardy. He had assumed they were. "But you travelled with him."

"As friends," she replied. "My very best friend." She added, softly: "But we lost our chance."

"If he were still here, do you think you'd be with him?"

"Actually, I believe it's my turn," she grinned, looking up at him—refusing to answer such a question.

He realised as soon as he said it that he had gone too far, and caused to her retreat.

"If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you want to go?" Rose asked him.

 _Anywhere, as long as you were there_ , a love-struck Hardy immediately thought. Oh bloody hell, he was beginning to disgust himself. "Canada."

"Canada?" she gaped. "Why?"

"Nice and quiet there, I'd think."

"So, you want to live in the middle of nowhere, eh?"

He chuckled. "You should know by now I'm not overly fond of crowds."

"I've always liked crowds," Rose wondered.

"Really?"

"You're never alone in a crowd. It's pretend company. You can look at a complete stranger and never feel lonely."

"That's not the way I see it," Hardy shook his head. "I see a crowd of strangers that don't know my name. That'll forget my face as soon as I walk past."

They were silent for a time after that. Just eating chips and watching the crowds of the festival move about the booths and the beach. By then, the sky was murky near the ocean, with the only light coming from the orange of the clouds.

"When you go back to London, what are you going to do?" he finally said.

"I haven't really thought much about it," she replied softly, seemingly embarrassed by her uncertainty. "I was in a hospital for three years." Rose shook her head. "I lost so much time. Years gone. Time I'll never get back. Sometimes it's strange how I'm suddenly in 2015, because it feels like just yesterday I was with him."

He pushed around the last stray chips on the paper with his finger. "When were you last with him?"

"Seven years and seven months, give or take the days. I tried to stop counting, you know?" she bitterly replied. "Sometimes it feels longer or shorter."

"It's your turn to ask me a question."

She looked up and turned her body to sit more towards him. "Am I your friend?"

"Well, I thought we were mates…" he was suddenly unsure of _what_ they were. "Are we?"

"The best of friends?" Rose didn't know what she was getting at get.

Hardy shrugged. "I guess if you want to be. I'd like to be. Your best friend, I mean."

"Do you think I'm crazy? For being in a hospital and seeing ghosts and chasing after dreams…do you think I'm out of sorts for doing all that? Do you judge me?"

He noticed she fiddled with her hands while she spoke, and decided to try and her change in mood lighter. So, he chuckled and joked: "You only get one turn."

She didn't respond with a laugh, just looked at him—waiting for him to answer.

"I try not to judge you," he answered heavily, and truthfully. "But I can't help but judge you. Judging folks is my job. But, I don't think you're crazy. You were just too young."

"I was nineteen when I left," she nodded.

"Exactly, you were just a baby."

"And am I baby now?"

He gulped. What was she trying to say? Was she trying to be suggestive? With her wide eyes and full lips? "I…no?"

Rose's eyes cut to the festival afar, and her lips parted in an 'o'. "That a bonfire going?"

"Bonfire?" he scrunched up his nose, a bit dazed at the sudden change in conversation. Hardy turned his head to see, yes indeed, a tiny little bonfire burning beyond the tents, the flames looking like they were licking the top. "Oh, yeah, soon they'll light all of these cliffs around us," he said while gesturing.

Rose's head rotated back and forth to gaze at the cliffs. "Really?" Her voice was full of awe.

"Aye, I watched it last year from my chalet."

"Don't get out much?" she teased, her eyes on him.

"Not unless you're in town, apparently," he flirted unabashedly.

She couldn't help but smile bashfully. "Yeah?"

"Oi, now _you're_ getting cocky, Tyler."

"We'll be cocky together, then."

Hardy nodded. There was a lull in the conversation before he asked the delicate question: "Why didn't you take your A-levels?"

She sighed, having already anticipating the question at some point. Her records showed that her father had struck money before she even went into secondary, so of course it would be odd to everyone she met that she had no A-levels with a father who could buy her into any college she wanted. Perhaps get her a cosy corporate job with an office with windows and a secretary and a mass of employees underneath her…Little effort on her part really. But, that led to the best excuse why she hadn't. To be her own person. So, that's what she told everyone. But not Alec. No, he was different. He deserved the truth. Not the _whole_ truth of the Doctor and _her_ Pete, of course. She could never tell anyone that story. Ever. That story was of fiction. That story was the one that kept her at the hospital for so long. The story of _fiction_. Never seemed real, anyhow. "I didn't think I was very bright back then," she scrunched up her nose. "I didn't have a lot of self-respect. You know, until I met _him_.

"But what about you? Hm?" she roughly changed the subject. "My question for you is…after your wife left, how did you get it back? The self-confidence?"

Hardy shook his head. "I still don't have it. I never had it."

"What are you talking about?" she smiled incredulously. "You solved that boy's murder! How'd you do that without self-confidence?"

"You don't what you're talking about," he hissed. "That man is free."

"If it weren't for you, he wouldn't have been there in the first place."

"Any other detective could've solved it. Probably even better."

"Yeah, perhaps," she shrugged. Then, she poked him hard in the chest. "But _you_ solved it. That'll _never_ change.

"You have it, you just don't trust yourself enough with it."

Hardy's eyes flicked up to meet hers. "You have it too, you know. Self-respect. Self-confidence. You know you deserve better than what you have. And you know you can do better."

"What do I have?" Rose questioned, clueless to what he was referring to.

He copied her previous action and poked her, however softly, in the chest. "Thorns in your heart. And you deserve better."

There was a slight pause before he continued. "Answer my question from before," he murmured. "If he were still here, would you be together? The way you wanted?"

A pregnant silence washed over the two as they stared at one another. She knew they wouldn't have been together, like that. It was such a simple answer, but one she never, ever, wanted to admit. Even though _he_ loved her, it was something that would never have happened. Even if everything was perfect. They weren't. The Doctor loved her too much to condemn her to a life where she would spend her entire life never having a home, just like him. Everyone needs a home. Everyone needs that one thing they can attach themselves through—a constant in time and space. The Doctor had a prison sentence. He was chained to his Tardis for the rest of his life flying from place to place, tangling an entire web of things that in the end, wouldn't attach.

However, Rose still hadn't found her attachment. What attached herself inside a constant? Obviously not the Doctor nor her parents. Not London nor Tony. Not Torchwood or Mickey.

Was Alec in the Doctor's world? Did he exist? If she had stayed on the other side of that bloody wall, would she still have met him?

First you find your attachment, then you find your home. And, maybe she was looking at her attachment right then and there. With a horrid beard and set jaw. For all she knew, if she had stayed in her own world, they'd be sitting on the same bench.

"No," she finally shook her head. "It would have never been the way I wanted." _The way she wanted_. A time-lord Doctor that was still alien, but could grow old and never change face. That wouldn't die before or after her. That had no secret wives or children. _That had no secrets_.

That man, however, didn't exist. He'd never grow old, he'd never stop changing face, he'd die long after her, and he'd continue to have his secrets—never telling a soul.

But, oh, look at the man sitting in front of her that had a chance to grow old. He was beautiful. Something so ordinarily precious. And she wanted it.

Yet, it frustrated her. He had no idea how fantastic he was. Just by being so _human_. By being everything she had never had.

The Doctor had two hearts and Alec barely had one, and that was perhaps the best—most ironic—thing of all.

So, she changed her mind in that split second. And another parallel universe was created because of it.

"Rose, are you alright?" his voice sounded concerned. "You're…crying."

She pressed a finger underneath an eye and it came back damp. Rose laughed, wiping her eyes with her fingers. "These, Alec Michael Hardy, are happy tears."

"But, shouldn't you be sad?"

"Nuh uh uh," she tutted and shook her head. "You can only ask so many questions."

She could still tell that Alec had no earthly idea why she was so strangely happy all of the sudden. So, she crumpled up the empty paper that still sat between them and sat it on the other side of her. "Remember when you kissed me on the cliff?"

He nodded slowly.

"And you said you were no hero?"

He nodded again.

She grinned. "You were so wrong. You're the bravest man I know."

"Sorry, not following. What did I do?"

Rose moved across the bench, closing the space between them. "You saved a girl from being hit by a bloody car, found out that you looked just like her proclaimed soul-mate, followed her anyways, pretended to eat bloody chips with her family, asked her on a _mate-date_ , kissed her, told her that it was because you needed comfort, played the stupidest game, listened to her talk about the irony of English Roses, wore jeans and a tee, told her something extremely personal, told her that she was _thorny_ , and never thought for a second that she fancied you."

"Wait, what?" he leaned in like he was hard of hearing.

"You did all of that, and didn't know that I fancied you," she shook her head in amazement. "You went out of your way, thinking that I never would."

"How do you know that?"

"Because instead of pushing me towards you, solely on the fact that you look like _him_ , like anyone taking advantage would, you were brave. And selfless. And such a hero. You wanted me to become a five so I could go back to London and never not be able to hear the word 'doctor' again."

"A five?"

"You wanted me to accept it. And I have. And I'm accepting _you_. You're my constant."

"Your _constant_?"

"Can you go somewhere with me?" She extended her hand towards him.

He grabbed her hand without knowing any more details. Would they have made a difference?


	11. Chapter 10: Peak

_Listen to: "All Waters" by Perfume Genius or "Night Time" by Alexandre Desplat_

* * *

 ** _Chapter 10: Peak_**

* * *

He couldn't believe she knew. Even more so, he couldn't believe that she might actually be interested in someone like him. She seemed impossible—how someone like her could have been out there all along, and he never have known?

But he needed her to explain everything. Explain how she knew. Explain what a 'five' was. Explain what she was thinking. How she thought of him.

It was humiliating how he was acting. Becoming so open. Becoming so irrational. Becoming so utterly obsessed. A part of him hoped that she'd stay. Never leave for London. But, then another part of him hoped she would. Partially because that was her home—where she belonged. And the other partial because he was scared shitless. He was scared of the potential commitment there. Scared of how Rose would view him in a…intimate setting. But on the other spectrum, Hardy was scared that she was bringing him to wherever they were headed to explain to him how much she admired the way he thought of her, but only saw them as mates.

Then, he had to remember he was a bloody adult, and adults weren't supposed to be so susceptible to falling in love in five days time. But he had. And that was the scariest thing of all. He still didn't know hardly anything about her. But he _loved_ her.

Did she know that too? Fancying someone is one thing. You fancy chips or you fancy your new pair of shoes. But you _love_ someone. Like he _loved_ Rose.

Rose Marion Tyler. The girl with the blonde hair and pretty smile. The girl with the Doctor issue and droll family. The girl who knew about his heart and cared more about his soul.

And there she was, leading him past her house and up the same cliff they went on their first mate-date. Leading him past the twinkling stars and further away from the dull music of the festival and the roaring bonfires that littered the other bluffs.

The grass beneath them was dark, only the very tips of the blades illuminated by the combination of the white points in the sky and the orange hues burning in the distancing.

After a long period of silence as they walked up, Rose said with heavy breaths: "I came up here the night after we both came. After the book shop."

"Book shop?" he automatically asked.

"The one off of main."

"Why'd you come back up here?"

At that, Rose finally stopped, tugging him to halt behind her. "For this," she gestured in front of her.

Just a few metres in front of the couple, was the drop that lead straight down to the beach.

"The view?" he assumed, admiring the way you could only tell the ocean from the night sky by the gentle movement of the waves.

She shook her head. "The drop."

Suddenly, he became all too aware of Rose's closeness to the edge and instinctively latched a strong hand on her arm. "No," he hoarsely begged.

" _No_ ," she turned her head to look at Alec. "I wouldn't. That's why I like it. Yeah? It's proof that there's something keeping me here. Something before I thought had left with him."

"You can't even…you can't scare me like that," he shook his head, stumbling over his words.

"Whose turn is it?"

"I dunno, it can be yours if you want."

"Alright." Her gaze had hardened. "If I tell you something, will you promise to listen and believe?"

He nodded. Of course he would. He would always believe in her. Believe in her not to step off the edge. Believe in her to stay strong…Believe in her to always listen.

"The Doctor's not dead. He never existed."

Hardy dropped his hand from Rose's arm as soon as she said the word 'dead'. "Wait…what?" He was in disbelief. He should have known. No records, no name. He was so bloody stupid!

She raised her hands in a calming manner. "Hang on, hang on. I lied to you for a good reason."

"Then you bloody better tell me then! Making me look like a fucking idiot like that! I was beginning to believe you!" he spit.

"Just listen to me! Where did the Cybermen go all those years ago? They were here and then they vanished. Where?"

"I…I dunno," Hardy shook his head, not getting why she was telling him all of this. What did this have to do with anything? Maybe she was truly crazy. She hadn't changed at all since the day they met. "The military—"

She shook her head no, interrupting him. "Do you remember that old episode of _Star Trek_ where they went into the mirror universe where Spock had a beard and everything was different, yet the same?"

"I guess."

"That's where they went," she reaffirmed. "A parallel universe. The universe my mum and I are from."

"Wait, your mum now? Oh god, Rose, don't drag her into this too."

"You promised you'd listen!" Rose pointed harshly at him. "I'm telling you this because I know you're going to believe me. You're going to believe me when I say the Doctor is alive, just in the other universe—where I'm from."

Hardy laughed forcibly. "Alright, let's just say all of this is true. In this 'world', why can't you just go back?"

"Because the universes were only open because of the Cybermen. After that, the Doctor had to close them. And I was left on the other side. So he's not dead. He's nonexistent. No proof of him ever existing over here. I have nothing. Not even a single picture of him."

"So," he scratched his head, "you want me to believe that you and your mum are both aliens, really?"

Rose winced. "I wouldn't really put it like _that_."

"Is Pete your dad then, if you and your mum aren't supposed to be here?"

"This version of him isn't. _My_ dad—my Pete—is dead. Died when I was a baby. I never knew him growing up."

"So Tony…?" his voice faltered.

Rose sadly shook her head. "No Pete, no Tony." A pause. "My mum took over this universe's Jackie's spot after she was cyberized, but this world's Pete and this world's Jackie never had me. So, I'm really the only one who isn't supposed to be here."

Hardy wasn't saying he believed her…yet. But, the divorce on the file between Jackie and Pete, it lined up. It was an explanation, to say the least. It also explained the way Rose's mother greeted him like the Doctor was never dead, just gone. "You were poor before you came here, weren't you?" he inferred, drawing evidence by her lack of education.

Rose nodded. "Mum and I were still living on the estate. I worked in a shop."

"So who was the Doctor? Really? What was his name?"

"I didn't lie when I told you that much. He never told me. He never told anyone, really."

"How did you meet him?"

She let out a laugh. "He blew up my work."

Even Hardy managed to quirk a smirk at that. "Why?"

"There were aliens."

She said it so simply that he managed to shake it off. "Oh yeah, aliens. Right. Of course. If there are parallel universes, why not aliens, right?" He let out a large sigh.

"Alec… _he_ was an alien too."

He exasperatedly rubbed his face with his hands. "God, why are you telling me all of this?! I don't know what to bloody think! Bollocks, Rose!"

"If you don't believe me, just know that if you told me the sun was purple I'd believe you. Even if it wasn't true."

"Well, that's easy for you to say! Isn't it?! I'm not trying to pass plots from bloody _Star Trek_ off as reality!" He couldn't help but begin to furiously pace back and forth a few paces away from her.

"Believing means _to have confidence in the truth, the existence, or the reliability of something, although without absolute proof that one is in the right of doing so_." He continued to pace so she went on to say: "I learned that so the hospital would never be able to break me and get me to say it wasn't true. And I never did. Even though I had no proof, I knew that in the end the only people who believed were the people that mattered."

"So your parents believe you, then?"

"They were _there_. If you ask them, they'll tell you the same thing."

"Then why didn't they back you up in the hospital then? Why'd they just leave you in there?"

"Because I wasn't in there just for that! I was in there because I…" she shook her head and refused to continue. How could Rose have had the courage to change her mind and tell Alec solely on the fact that he had become her attachment, but not have any courage to tell him something that was actually believable?

However, she didn't have to. Alec immediately stopped pacing because his feet became lodged to the ground and his eyes widened. He had noticed how over their conversation she had moved so that the backs of her heels touched the edge. "You were going to jump if I hadn't believed you?" his voice broke. He knew what she had done. And he thought he knew what her plan was. "You wouldn't."

"Just testing myself," she slowly raised her arms up to her shoulder and wiggled her fingers. "If you had told me what I hoped you wouldn't, I wanted to see if I was strong enough to stay."

"Rose, you get away from the edge right now. I believe you. I do. Please…don't."

She ignored him. "The first time I tried. But this time I won't. I want to see if I'm actually a five. That I'm not just fooling myself. That I won't anymore."

"What's a five? You never answered that."

"Is that what you're going with? 'Cause it's your turn, you know," Rose smirked.

"Alright, fine. I change it. I want to ask you to step away from the edge, then."

She dropped her arms and took two steps forward.

Hardy sighed with relief but still closely watched her.

"Now that it's my turn, I want to ask you if you meant it. Do you really believe me? Or did you lie to stop me from falling? 'Cause, I'm not going to. I know that now. Regardless of what you say, my feet are staying on the ground."

Had he meant it? Of course he would have easily lied in order to convince her not to jump. But it dawned on him. Her question was a bloody paradox. If he said he believed her, then she stayed safe. If he said he hadn't believed her that would mean he didn't believe that she was wouldn't jump. So, maybe that was it. Maybe it came down not to the question of whether or not he believed in aliens and parallel worlds, but if he believed in _her_. And just like before, he did. So, therefore, if he believed in her not to jump, he believed in her wild stories.

 _They were true_. Every bit of it. The Doctor was an alien. He wasn't really dead, just trapped. Which meant Rose still had a chance with him. And if they still had a chance, where did that leave Hardy? She said it herself: she didn't belong in this world. She was never meant to be. Did that mean she thought _they_ weren't meant to be? "Did I exist over there?"

A smile slowly crept across her lips. "I never got the chance to find out."

"You planned this," he shook his head in amazement. "You knew if I trusted you not to jump then I'd trust what you had to say."

"We both had a benefit out of it, I'll admit," she shrugged. "But really, when did you start to realise that I wouldn't jump?"

"You were facing the wrong way for jumping," he said.

She laughed and moved to stand closer to him. "I thought you'd catch that, _Inspector_."

"So an alien, huh?" He put his hands in his pockets with suave. "What was that like?"

Rose looked up at him with an amused expression. "Is that the question you're going with?"

"What? That one shouldn't count. It's hardly a question," his lips twitched.

She gestured to his face. "Why because you already know the answer?"

"Alright fine. You might as well explain what a five is. I've only asked you twice," he joked.

"Stages of grief. A five is the final stage: acceptance."

"But, like you said, he's not dead. You could find a way back to him."

"I could," she nodded. "And by doing so, make it so neither of these worlds ever existed."

Alec winced.

"I'd rather not think that he walks parallel with me. Drives a person crazy, I've learned." She paused. "Do you still feel the same?"

"How did you know how I felt before?"

"…I knew because of what I told you. And you just did it again. Told me I could find a way back to him."

"Any friend would tell you the same."

"Perhaps," she shrugged. "But no friend would be jealous of the Doctor."

"What?" Hardy scoffed. "I'm not jealous, I've never even met him."

"You have no reason to be jealous. Do you know why?"

She was standing awfully close to him then. Not even nearly a step apart. He could see how her left eye seemed black from the shadows of the night sky and burning fires. "Why?" he breathed.

Rose pressed one of her hands over her heart and then brought that same hand up to Hardy's—splaying her fingers across his chest. "Because for all I know, if I had stayed on the other side, we'd be doing this, right here, right now."

"Would you change a thing about this?"

That same hand left his chest to travel up to his lips, letting her thumb press against the bottom and the rest of her fingers settle on his cheek and jaw. "Twenty," she whispered.

"Twenty?"

"I counted. Our game's over."

"So answer the last question, then."

Her eyes moved down to his lips. "It's time for you to be a hero, Detective."

"Am I your hero now?" he said, his heart beginning to flutter uncontrollably from his rising nerves.

"Oh shut up and snog me," giggled Rose before quickly guiding his head closer to hers so she could press her lips against his.

At first, he didn't think it could be real. Everything about her screamed better than fantasy. She was so unbelievably handsome with her big eyes and wide smile and…her lips were hadn't left his yet. How not? He wasn't moving or doing anything, because what was he supposed to do? She was there and he was… _also there_. He could do anything he wanted. Including **bloody kiss her back**. So he did, because she had kissed him first (and because he was a hero, and the hero always got the girl).

His hands reached up to hold the sides of her head and he could _smell_ her. She was all…Rose. Not anything else he could compare her to, because how could you compare the smell of the ocean to the smell of grass?

Rose was beginning to pull back and Hardy gave her one last lingering peck before her head tilted back to look at him with a grin on her face. Oh, they needed to get back to snogging soon so he could kiss that grin. "Your beard," she murmured, letting her fingers roam across his cheek.

"You like it, then?"

She pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek before rubbing the spot with her thumb. "If you shave if might be the end of the world as we know it," her eyes crinkled as she continued to smile.

"Oh, we couldn't have that, now could we?" He moved one hand from her head down to cup her neck.

"Alec?"

"Hm?" he hummed as he moved to rest his forehead against hers, relocating his hands once again, this time down further down to her waist.

She automatically moved her hands to rest on his shoulders. "I wanna play again."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm," she breathed out, collecting her hands behind his neck.

"Only if I go first this time."

"Shoot," said Rose.

"Would you like to go on a date that didn't involve mates?" Hardy drawled.

She brought her forehead off of his and looked up at him with a smirk. "And here I thought that's what it was all along."

#

"Are you keeping count?" Alec murmured as he and Rose laid next to each other on the grass, hands entwined, as they gazed at one another.

"Pretty sure we're on question six or something like that," she giggled. To be completely honest, her brain hadn't been in the right spot since their kiss. Their indescribable _real_ first kiss. Where both parties kissed back and she felt like she'd been floating a metre off the ground. Oh, her change in mind payed off. She could never have looked in eye with the weight of the Doctor on her heart. She was carrying Alec's and he was carrying hers, and that's how it was meant to be. Because they were constant. And he was so beautiful with his tee shirt and floppy hair. So utterly perfect. She would never be able to think of love the same. Before, it was an encumbrance—something that always strained on her soul, bringing her down to the state she was in before Broadchurch. But now, she was completely at ease. Unbroken. Intact. Undamaged. In peace. In a state of acceptance. _A five_. And yet, the pessimist in her screamed that it couldn't last forever. Just like the security of her time with the Doctor came crashing down in one moment.

"You're not keeping count are you?" he laughed.

"It's not my fault you're so…" she was at a loss for a word.

"Sexy?" he cocked an eyebrow.

"Oh," her nose crinkled along with her eyes, "I should've seen _that_ one coming."

"You left it open."

"I did," Rose agreed.

"Favourite film then?"

" _Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium_."

"Isn't that a children's film?"

"' _All stories, even the ones we love, must eventually come to an end and when they do, it's only an opportunity for another story to begin_ ,'" she quoted with a sad smile.

"You watched that in the hospital," he inferred.

"And at the end, a man named Henry believed in the magic of the toy store because he believed in a woman named Mahoney, and he believed in her because he fell in love with her," Rose said simply.

"That's how you knew," he breathed out with wide eyes.

She bit her lip and shrugged her shoulders bashfully. "Alec," she slowly began, "would it be too soon to ask if I was right? Not just about you fancying me, but about you…you know."

"Loving you?"

Rose nodded.

"Well," he said, "it would depend on how you felt."

"You loving me depends on how I feel?"

"I'd hate to love someone who doesn't love me back."

"But I do, I thought you knew."

His heart almost stopped right then and there. "You do?"

She giggled. "Yes, I've already told you."

"When? I don't believe I was there!" he replied in disbelief.

She tutted under her breath while she shifted closer to him, bringing her hand that was not in his up to lay on her heart. "Yes you were." She took that same hand and placed it over Alec's heart. "I told you I loved you." Then the hand drifted up to his lips and she placed her fingers faintly on top of them. "And then I asked if I could kiss you. You just weren't listening."

He gulped and whispered against her fingertips: "I asked you if you would change a thing, and you said 'twenty.'"

"Not before I asked you to kiss me," she shook her head.

"Can you kiss me again then? Since I wasn't listening?"

Her eyes closed as she laughed. "Oh, you're good."

He waited as she moved her hand so her fingers could thread through his hair. Then, he could feel her breath tickling his lips, and he closed the small gap between them.

Rose simply loved snogging Alec. He never did anything extraordinary, but she wouldn't change it for anything. She wished she could remain on that cliff for the rest of her life—feeling his floppy hair in her fingertips and becoming acquainted with the way his facial hair tickled the sides of her mouth.

Managing to pull himself apart from Rose's lips, he leaned on his side in order to bring his mouth up to her ear, breathing, ever-so quietly: "I love you."

She already knew. But hearing that wisp leave his lips was the most incredible moment of her life. It was there, and then it was gone. But she knew it'd be back.

He leaned away and gave her a small smile as she dropped her hand from his hair to grip his hand she was still holding with two now.

"I—" she automatically began, about to reciprocate, but then stopped herself mid-way. "Oh, you know."

This time, he made the first move, dipping his head to recapture her lips in a frenzy. Moving his lips against hers, he brought his spare hand up to rest on her neck.

Her eyes fluttered shut. His lips were so soft and warm and _comforting_. She felt like she'd never be alone again whenever she was with him. He'd always be there for her. To hold her hand. To listen to her gab about chips and the telly. To make a joke and let her smile.

A week ago, she didn't even know Alec Hardy existed. And what a shame that was. Now he would always be on her mind, the Doctor a solemn afterthought. The Doctor a farewell to arms. To the hero who would keep on fighting, even if the whole universe was against him. She'd never once forget about him, she swore to that. It was an oath she had taken ever since he had told her to run. Hopefully he'd never—oh, who was she kidding? He could never forget the big bad wolf. Even as time went on, and he changed face a dozen more times, he'd always remember.

This is what she would always want. She knew she'd never be happy with anyone else. She had never had this with _him_ , but the universe gave her that chance. An opportunity. And she took it.

Of course she'd look back. Everyone always looks back. No one stared towards the future the entire time. Where was the fun in that? The Tardis went both ways, and so should she. You learn most by observing the past, so you can plan for the future—and she wanted to plan her future with Alec.

Oh, they'd have domestics. Maybe a nice kitchen overlooking the back garden. Maybe a kid or two (if they were up to the challenge).

They'd sleep in on the weekends, and take kips together on the couch.

It'd be her favourite adventure yet.

She began to feel tired, the grip she had on Alec's hand beginning to loosen.

He noticed and his kisses became longer and more relaxed.

Eventually, the two tapered from one another, Rose moving so her head would rest on his chest and her body would be curled against him. "Can you tell me a story?" she sighed.

"What kind of story?" His voice rumbled his chest.

She turned her head so she could bury her nose in his chest. "Hmm…a happy story."

"A happy story, eh?"

"Yeah."

"I'm not particular good at telling stories," replied Alec.

She yawned. "Do you want me to tell it, then?"

"If you want."

"Alright," she agreed. "How about one my mum used to tell me? Yeah?"

"Aye, I'd like that."

"So," she shifted to get a bit more comfortable, "there was this village of wooden people who were carved by this very old man named Eli. They were called Wemmicks. And each Wemmick was different. No two were the same. And, all day every day, the Wemmicks would walk around and give each other stickers. There were two kinds of stickers they would give out: gold stars and gray dots. The prettier Wemmicks always got stars, while the rougher Wemmicks got dots. The most talents Wemmicks were always covered in stars, while the others who did little were covered in dots.

"There was one particular Wemmick named Punchinello. He wasn't attractive, nor talented so he was covered in dots. Because he was covered in dots with no stars, some Wemmicks would come up and give him a dot for no reason at all—just because he already had them. He rarely went outside because of this, and when he did he only spoke to other Wemmicks with lots of dots because they made him feel better."

"I'm not seeing how this is a happy story, Rose," he chuckled low after she paused.

Rose yawned once again. "Just wait and see, then. You're impatient, you know that?" she quipped.

"Alright, alright, I'm listening."

"Thank you. So one day Punchinello met a Wemmick unlike any he had ever met before. Her name was Lucia and she had no dots or stars. Her wood was bare. It wasn't that Wemmicks didn't give her any stickers; it's just that the stickers didn't stay. Some would give her stars for not having any dots, but it would just fall right off. Others would give her dots for not having any stars, it too wouldn't stay."

Hardy leaned his head up to look at Rose's face as she closed her eyes before continuing.

"Punchinello wanted to be like her, so he asked her how she did it. She told him that every day she went to go see the woodcarver, Eli.

"Punchinello wanted to go see Eli, so Lucia told him where to go. So, the next day, he went to Eli's workshop."

Her voice had begun to fade more and more as she went on, so when her breath slowed and she didn't continue, Hardy smiled. Shaking her shoulder lightly, he gently said: "Rose. Rose, come on, let me take you home."

"Hmm?" Her head snapped up from his chest to look around at where they laid—her hands disconnecting from his. "Sorry, I dozed off a little," she apologised while rubbing her face.

Oh, he would definitely miss her when she's gone—wincing at the loss of contact. Sitting up, he said: "I need to get you home so you can go to bed."

"Wait, what time is it?" she mumbled, still disoriented.

It took him a few moments to dig his mobile out of his pocket. "Uh," he squinted at the bright screen, "almost half ten."

"Oh bloody hell, and I was under the impression time slowed with you," she smiled, her head to look at him.

"Wait, is that a compliment or an insult?"

Rose inelegantly rose to her feet, sticking out a hand towards Hardy to pull himself up with. "I believe that was a compliment; no one wants time to fly."

He snorted, taking her hand and pulling himself up off of the ground.

Instead of letting go of his hand as soon as he was upright, she entwined her fingers with his.

He looked down at her with a smug grin on his face. "You're so pretty," he couldn't help but say.

"Yeah?"

"Aye," he bid before planting a chaste kiss on the top of her head.

"Did you want to hear the rest of the story, then?" she asked him as they began walking back down the side.

"Let me guess, the woodcarver tells Pinocchio—"

"Punchinello!" Rose corrected, laughing.

"Gesundheit."

Rose bumped her shoulder against him. "You're an arse," she giggled.

"So the woodcarver then tells _Punchinello_ ," he continued on, "that he's special just the way he is. Am I right?"

"Oh, aren't you just the most brilliant sleuth?" she joked. "But yes, you're right. I guess I don't have to finish it then."

"Oh come on then. Finish your story."

"No," she teased, "You said you already know the ending. What's the point?"

He laughed. "Oi, you know you're dying to tell it."

She dramatically scoffed. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Rose," he drew out, bringing his face down closer to hers. "You know you can't resist."

Rose pretended to ignore him. "Really? Because I think I am."

They both stop where they are in order to bring their faces closer together, their noses almost touching. "You know you'll never make it home at this rate."

"Isn't that a good thing?" she smirked.

"Well, I guess it depends on—"

She laughed, cutting him off. "You're not very good at this, are you?" Rose slipped her hand out of his and walked away, giving him a playful glance over her shoulder.

"Oi, good at what?" Hardy scrunched up his nose as he followed after her.

"Flirting!"

"I'll have you know, I am a brilliant flirter!"

"Oh, yeah?" she drawled.

"Yeah!"

She whipped her head away from him, her hair jostling in the wind. "Then come and show me then, _Inspector_."

A few seconds later two hands grabbed Rose's waist from behind and she let out a surprised yelp.

Hardy's mouth came down next to her ear and whispered: "That is flirting."

He dragged her close to him and she let out a giggle. "Alec! Now you're just being silly!"

Letting go of her, he bowed as she whirled around to face him. "My work here is done."

"Yeah, I don't think so," Rose shook her head, walking off from him again.  
"What else do I have to do, then?" he caught up her with, slipping his hand back into hers.

"Give me a goodnight kiss," she smiled.

"I will after you tell me how your story ends."

"Hmm, I suppose that _is_ fair enough," she drawled. "Fine, so Eli told Punchinello that Punchinello was special the way he was because he was Eli's, just like you said. And everyone mattered to Eli, regardless of shape or size or talent. He told Punchinello that the stickers only stuck if you let them. Punchinello said he didn't understand, and Eli told him that it would take time for him to understand because he had so many stickers. But, over time they would disappear and he would be pure again. Sure enough, after Punchinello left Eli, a dot fell to the ground."

"And are all of _your_ dots gone?" Alec asked her after she had finished.

Roe smiled. "It's getting there," she proudly nodded before linking her arm in his and resting her head on his upper arm. "Thanks to you, of course."


	12. Chapter 11: Highland

_Listen to: "Main Theme" by Elmer Bernstein or "Civilian" by Wye Oak_

* * *

 ** _Chapter 11: Highland_**

* * *

He snogged her gently in front of her front door—his hands cupping her face and her fingers hooked in his belt loops—before telling her goodnight and leaving.

Rose leaned up against her front door as he walked away, she not even bothering to repress a giddy smile. She felt so…young with him. Even though she wasn't even thirty and it was a horrid cliché, she felt like she could smile for forever around Alec without it ever faltering or fading.

She had never been able to be so open with the Doctor (well, it going _both_ ways). Like she had told Alec, she had never even known his real name.

Oh, Rose felt so awful to compare the two. They were completely different. And it was of no particular use _to_ compare the two. There was no use saying any 'ifs' ( _if_ she was still with the Doctor, _if_ the Doctor had told her how she felt months before Canary Wharf), because she was here. Regardless of what could've happened…it didn't. No time machine could change something constant. Something that was never supposed to alter. At the end of the day, you can't alter lives. They happen the way they're supposed to. And, she rather liked how her constant turned out.

She wasn't choosing one man over the other. She was being presented one man over the other by something she couldn't control.

She was tired of feeling guilty. Feeling like she had to live the rest of her life miserable because it didn't turn out the way she wanted. She had to look at it from a different angle.

Rose got two _years_ with a time-traveling alien to see places no one in the world would ever see. Why had she been taking it for granted? Her time was up, _cry me a river, build a bridge, and get over it_.

Everything comes to an end.

It's not her fault everyone just hates endings.

#

"Hey Tony, what're you still doing up?" Rose asked as she walked into the kitchen to find her brother sitting at the counter in his pyjamas flipping through one of his comics.

"Rose!" Tony's face lit up as he looked up to see his sister. "I thought I had heard the door!"

"Yeah, I was trying to be quiet, I thought you'd be in bed by now. It's awfully late isn't it?"

"Mum and dad said I could stay up and wait for you, since they were."

"Ah," Rose nodded, opening the fridge to rummage around. "Where are they?"

"Your dad's in the loo," Rose heard her mother's sharp voice appear.

She cringed and turned around to give her mum a sheepish smile. "Hey, I see you're still up."

"A ring, Rose!" Jackie waved her arms wildly. "That's all I ask for, you know! A ring so I know you aren't bloody dead!"

Rose rolled her eyes and closed the fridge door. "Mum, you knew I would be with Alec."

"How was I supposed to know?! You didn't answer any of my texts!"

Rose winced and took her mobile out of her back pocket. Sure enough, she had about a dozen missed texts and rings from her parents. She looked up and gave her mother another sheepish look. "It was on silent."

"I'm sure if it hadn't you still wouldn't have answered it," her mother countered.

She shrugged and placed her mobile back into her pocket. "Yeah, you're probably right," she joked.

"Rose! This is serious! We need to know where you are!"

"Why? I told you I would be with Alec, and I was! What's the big deal?"

Jackie clearly didn't have any real reasoning behind her arguement, so she just huffed: "The big deal is that we don't know this Detective bloke!"

"Right," she nodded, "so if he kills me and makes lampshades out of my skin he can just arrest himself, then?"

"What?!" Tony gasped, looking between his sister and mum with wide eyes. "Lampshades?!"

"Now look what you did!" Jackie scolded Rose.

Rose sighed and turned to Tony. "Tony, sorry I shouldn't have said that. I forgot you were here."

"Do people do that?!"

"No, of course not," Rose lied, "I was just over exaggerating, you see."

"Oh, good!" her brother nodded in relief.

"Tony, can you go brush your teeth?" Jackie asked.

"All by myself?" he got excited.

"Yeah, if you promise to hop in bed afterwards."

"Deal!" He scooped his comic off of the counter and scampered off.

"Look, I'm sorry I said that. I wasn't thinking," Rose apologised to her mum after Tony had left.

Jackie moved to stand closer to Rose. "I'm just worried about you. Last time we really spoke about Detective Hardy you told me you'd never want to be with him and now…"

Rose looked down at the ground. "I've changed my mind."

"So you want a friendship or…? What are you even looking for?"

"He told me he loved me."

Her mum was speechless for a few moments. "He told you he loved you," she repeated like she hadn't heard Rose the first time.

"But I said it first."

"You told him you loved him?" Jackie asked in disbelief. "Rose…I'm trying really hard not to shout at you right now."

"Then go ahead," Rose gazed back up at her mum. "Shout. Tell me I don't mean it. Tell me how bloody stupid I am. Tell me you're gonna march right over to his chalet and give him a bloody piece of your mind."

Jackie shook her head and let her shoulder sag—her anger floating away. "I can't."

"I know," Rose quirked a half-smile, "cause I shook it out of myself."

"Wait, what?"

"You told me yesterday that you couldn't treat me like you did in 2005. And I don't want you to, now. I want you to treat me just like this. Like I'm healing, yeah?"

"But, love, you _didn't_ shake it out of yourself. You're in _love_ with him. That's the complete opposite."

Rose nodded. "No, I did shake it out. And it feels fantastic."

#

 _That, at least, was the condition of Godfrey Cass in this six-and-twentieth year of his life. A movement of compunction, helped by those small indefinable influences—_

"Rose?" she heard her brother ask from across the couch that next morning.

"Hm?" she responded, still keeping her eyes on her reading.

 _—_ _which every personal relation exerts on a pliant nature, had urged him into a secret marriage, which was a blight on his life. It was an ugly story of low passion, delusion, and waking from delusion, which needs not to be dragged from the privacy —_

"Did you and Detective Hardy kiss?"

"What?" Rose finally looked up from her book to look at her brother leaning closer to her in interest. However, she noticed that they were showing commercials on the telly.

"You know…are you and him in _love_?" he scrunched up his nose like it was something horribly disgusting to think about.

Her brother was far too observant for her liking.

Rose closed her book and shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I do care about him, a lot."

"Did you tell him?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I did."

"Did he say he loved you back?"

Rose gave him a half-amused, half-astonished smile with a slight tilt of her head. "I didn't tell you that I told him that I loved him."

"But you do," he insisted.

"I—," she gave an exasperated huff. "You're very annoying, did you know that?" she teased.

He giggled. "I know, mummy tells me every day."

"Yeah, I bet she does," she laughed.

"So, did he say it back? Did you kiss him?" Tony continued.

"Hey Tony," she changed the subject, "how would you like to go to the police station today and hang out with Detective Hardy? Hm?"

"Really?!" He forgot all about his inquiry to jump up onto his knees on the couch. "Would I get to see Miss Ellie?"

"Yeah, maybe," Rose smiled. "Sound like a plan?"

"Yeah! Lemme go get dressed! Don't leave without me!" He raced off.

Rose really didn't think Alec would mind, seeing as last night he had said: _"I have to go to work tomorrow, but if you ever get bored…you know…uh, I sometimes get bored too. You know. If you'd wanna I dunno, if—"_

She had cut him off with a snog.

#

He had been staring at his e-mail for the past hour, he should think, just tapping away on his desk with a pencil. Occasionally he'd put down his pencil and scroll down the page and up again, or turn his head to look at the clock on the wall, or look out his window to see if Ellie had moved (he was debating whether or not she had fallen asleep sitting there filling out paperwork).

So yeah, of course he had invited Rose to stop by (he so hoped she would come). However, he couldn't figure out the particular reason why he had invited her. It was a close call between his utter boredom and the fact that he just really, really missed her already (if Ellie asked it was because he was bored). It had been thirteen hours and—he looked at the clock again—16 minutes since he had last seen her (that would also make it 13 hours and 14 minutes since their last snog, _yes_ it he was counting that too).

Of course, Ellie had pestered him for the first thirty minutes of their workday about Rose, asking him if they had _slept_ together the night before (he wished, he'd have to admit). Would he ever get to sleep with her? Not even in the sexual sense. Would he ever get to lie next to her on a bed? Feel the way she felt close to him? Hear her—He had to cut himself off before he became even _more_ out of character, because _Jesus Christ_ , he was Hardy! Hardy: the grumpy detective who pops pills and sits on the beach all alone. Not _Alec_ : the man who fantasizes falling asleep in the accompaniment of Rose Tyler.

Oh, who was he kidding? He totally was Alec. Rose had him wrapped around her finger. Before his greatest fear was dying without solving the bloody, motherfucking, pain-in-the-arse Sandbrook case. Now his greatest fear was seeing Rose Tyler's retreating figure.

He'd take her in any form. Wife (oh lord he was in deep). Partner. Lover. Mate. Bloody acquaintance. As long as he never saw that retreating figure. As long as he never heard her say what would kill him: _I'm with you because you look like him_.

He dropped his pencil and rubbed his eyes from underneath his specs. The most horrible thing though, was that even if she told him that, he'd stay. Even if he was being used, he'd never leave her. That's how much he loved her.

How had these feelings come over him so quickly? One second he was staring at some lady off her rocker just asking to get hit by a car, and the next second he was staring at _her_. The most important woman in the world.

He could only describe the feeling one way:

When you first hear a song, and it sounds so unfamiliar and strange, but you stick with it because there's something _there_. Something interesting…something that makes you unable to stop listening. Maybe there's something in the background that speaks to you. Maybe there's some faint noise that if you asked anyone else if they heard it twinkle and ring, they'd have no clue what you're talking about. Then, the chorus would hit, and it'd feel like standing on top of a mountain range. Like a scene from _Sound of Music_. The wind blowing through the grass, your eyes wide, your brain just _humming_. And then, you'd hear it happen two or three more times. Each time making it crash against you so much harder, so much more **intense**. You. Loved. This. Song. So, you'd listen to it again, and again, and again. Someone would ask you if you ever got sick of it, and you'd say _never_. Every time you listened to it, it made it sound more and more familiar—which was the end goal. You wanted to know that song so well that you could sing along. You could know when each specific entrance was. You could play it in your mind even when it wasn't actually playing.

And, whenever someone asked for your favourite song, you'd automatically answer with that one. It fit all of your moods. It fit all of your life changes. It fit _you_. If you had a theme song, it would be that. Nothing. Fit. Better.

Rose was that song. His _theme song_. And she put every other song to shame.

#

Tony had complained about how long it had taken her to get dressed before leaving with him for the police station. But really, she just couldn't decide. A sundress? That had felt too flirty. Tee and shorts? Too casual. Maybe a tee underneath the sundress? Nope, that just looked ridiculous on anyone older than twelve. A blouse and shorts? There was no way she would have gone outside, so close to noon, in a blouse.

She had settled for a skater dress and trainers (Tony had asked her why she just didn't go bathing suit so they could go for a swim later (note: she had made him change out of his trunks and into normal clothes)).

Once they were walking into the station, Rose realised she had no idea where to go. There was a busy waiting room, with people walking all sorts of directions.

"In the movies, there's always a sign labeling all the different floors near the lift," Tony advised her, tugging on her hand.

"Yeah, well, you watch too much telly," she smirked, taking his advice by heading over to the lift. Sure enough, there was a listing in white lettering. Ground floor was main booking, dispatching, animal control, reportings, etc. First floor, however, were the Criminal Investigation offices, which she assumed (and hoped) involved the detectives. She'd look so silly, otherwise.

She looked down at her brother. "I guess we're going to the first floor, yeah?"

"Can I press the button?!" He gave her a wicked smile.

"Yes," she nodded, "you may press the—" Her voice faded when she saw that he had pressed it before she could finish her sentence.

After they had arrived on the second level, she found that because Wessex Police Station was so small, there was no type of secretary or nothing. All of the…few…detectives sitting out in the grey, dark room at little cubicles, hunched over seemingly doing nothing interested. Yet, miraculously, Tony thought it was the best thing he'd ever seen. Rose was just concerned how easy it had been to get up to where everyone was.

"Where's Miss Ellie and Detective Hardy?!" Tony squealed.

Because of the tone of Tony's voice, and the quietness of the room, everyone turned to look at Rose and Tony standing completely out-of-place in front of the lift. One of those people to have turned around, was Ellie.

"Rose?" she tilted her head in perplexity.

"Miss Ellie!" Tony grinned, dashing over to her small cubicle. "Look, I found you!"

"Yeah…you did," her tone was still wary. "Did you need something?" she turned to look at Rose, who was still standing in front of the lift.

"Look! Have I shown you my new sandals?! They have Captain America on them!" He kicked his foot up and then down so quickly that no one would have been able to notice the shape of the comic book character on them.

"Yeah," Ellie nodded, turning back to the boy. "Those are fierce, aren't they?"

"Can you show me all the cool stuff, now? The walk over here was sooo boring, and Rose took _forever_ to get ready!" he groaned and sagged his shoulders.

She laughed and stood from her chair. "Yeah, of course! You got me on a slow day!"

By that time, Rose had already slowly walked over to the two, she feeling the room's eyes very much so on her still. "Alec invited me, if that's alright?" she asked Ellie. "I brought Tony along, so if it isn't too much trouble, could you—?"

"Wait, Hardy invited you?" Ellie clarified. "The Detective with the grumpy face? That bloke?"

Yep, everyone was definitely looking at her now. "If he's busy, we can just—"

"No," Ellie shook her head. "He's in the break room," she pointed further down the room. "It's on your right. I'll go show Tony around. Yeah?"

"Yeah!" Tony smiled, answering for his sister. "Come on, Miss Ellie!" he latched onto her hand and began to tug. "We're losing time!"

The Detective smiled again at him and chuckled lightly. "Alright, hold your horses, there, cowboy." This time, she spoke to Rose: "Break room. On your right."

"Thank you," she murmured, beginning to feel very befitting in her skater dress, trainers, and backpack.

"Have Hardy ring me when you're ready to go," said Ellie before letting Tony begin to lead her away.

"Bye, Rose! Go and kiss your boyfriend! I won't tell mum or dad, pinkie promise!" Tony waved over his shoulder in an utterly horrifying moment for Rose, when she couldn't help but cringe and wish for a brother with a little less of Jackie's mouth.

It all felt worse, if that was even possible, when Rose turned to head in the direction Ellie had advised and saw the way the other detectives turned around in their chairs, or creeped up from behind their cubicle walls. She let out a polite smile and they all continued to watch her with keen interest.

She probably should make a joke so she could nervously laugh like she was beginning to already. "I take it he doesn't get visitors a lot, then?" she cracked. _Doesn't get visitors a lot? That was just horrible, Rose._

Not a soul responded to her, to her complete humiliation. _Alright, then. Just keep walking, pretend they're not there_.

It felt like it took a life-time to walk those maybe ten to twelve paces to where the break room was off of the room. She figured they would have lost interest by then, seeing her just walking like any other human being would. However, when she couldn't help but glance over her shoulder to peek if they had gone about their own business, she was wrong. They were still watching.

Was this abnormal behaviour for Alec? To have a visitor? She knew he didn't have many mates, and his family didn't live in Broadchurch, but he had to have at least have one visitor every now and then right?

Then she thought that that might be a good thing, in a completely selfish way. That she was all he had. But if that were true (which she had a sick feeling it was), what would happen if she left? That thought made her stop abruptly in front of the entryway. She was happy that she was the most important thing in his life. That would make anyone happy. To be the center of someone's universe. But, if she left... _when_ she went back to London, _when_ he stayed here—like he should—what would happen to him? More importantly, what would happen to her? Rose acted like it was a one-way street, but oh, she was wrong. He was the center of her universe too. Every waking moment revolved around Alec. Remembering something he had said. Wondering what he was doing. Thinking of what they would do together next. Past, present, and future=Alec.

What _would_ they do next, though? She had numerous fantasy-like hopes about that, but truth-be-told, she had not the faintest clue what she wanted. Did she want a boyfriend? That was too…normal. But Alec _was_ normal. What had she wanted more than anything else with the Doctor? Not for them to stop travelling, no, but for him to acknowledge their romantic connection. Alec had done just that! For her! She should be asking what _he_ wants! If he wanted to remain just mates, she'd obey, just like she had with the Doctor, because mate Alec is better than no Alec. Her time with him was limited till her return to London (she didn't even want to _begin_ on the fact that she wasn't sure if she even wanted to return with her parents), and if he wanted to get bloody eloped then she would follow him. No questions asked.

And when she peeked her head around to look inside of the break room, and saw Alec in one of his classic suits with his head rested on his fist, leaning on the counter and drearily stirring a cuppa, she knew she'd never ask questions with him. She'd never ask why she had known so soon with him and she'd never ask why she'd go to the ends of the universe for him because the answer wasn't simple at all. In its simplest form it was 'Because I love him.' But in its most elaborate form, it was every single emotion, word, reaction, and spark she felt when she heard even a whisper of 'Alec.' Alec. Immediately images and sounds and feelings running through her head like the way you'd imagine a computer processing information. All tucked under 'Alec.' Images of him in that tee. Sounds of the way he said her name. Feelings of his breath mixed with hers. Sensory details that were of the most importance in her memory banks, because that was how she'd recognise him if there were no other way to recognise him. In a crowd full of other people. In a dark room. Or, in a dream where nothing else made sense but him because in a dream, silly things made up for the unknown or vague, but he was _known to her_.

"It's your turn to ask a question," she finally spoke after minutes of watching him not move from his hunched position of stirring and sighing in languor.

Alec heard her. Of course he would hear her. Even though her voice was low and gentle so not to startle him, he heard her. He also heard the sound his spoon made thunking against the mug when he dropped it in order to quickly straighten up and look towards the entryway, finding her standing with a shy smile on her face. "Rose!" he said while nervously straightening his tie.

She giggled at him. "That's not a question."

"You…you came!" He looked at her with the tilt of head, not used to seeing her in his work setting. Now for the rest of his years at the station, he'd be able to recall everywhere he'd seen her inside. He'd be able to point out and say 'Rose was _there_ and Rose was _there_ , and oh! She was there too!'

"You're bad at this, aren't you, asking questions? I thought detectives were supposed to be good at that sort of thing," Rose wryly said.

"Well, uh…" His mind had momentarily gone blank in order to process how she looked standing there with her red (RED!) dress that stopped so short on her thighs, her thoroughly-used trainers, and her hair tousled haphazardly around her neck. "Would you like a cuppa?"

"The one you've been stirring for the past five minutes?" She pointed at it sitting on the counter.

"Oh," he winced while taking a quick glance towards the mug, "you saw that?

Rose began the short journey over to where he was standing. "I did."

"It's been a slow day," he explained.

"Well, at least one good thing came out of it," she grinned, now right in front of him.

"And what would that be?" he seamlessly flirted back.

She raised a hand and tapped the temple of his specs. "I quite like these."

 _No_. He had never been more horrified. His specs made him look a good ten years older. He didn't want bloody Rose Tyler to see him with his reading specs on! He gave a nervous chuckle before yanking them off his face and setting them down on the counter beside his cuppa. "I forgot I was wearing them, sorry."

"Why? Like I said, I like them."

And his heart sank when he came to his conclusive realisation that the Doctor must've worn specs. If he had vision problems, the Doctor must've had them too, right? He had thought that Rose…he didn't quite know what he thought, but he knew what he had hoped. And he had hoped that Rose didn't see him like _him_.

Why couldn't have he'd fallen in love with a woman without a missing doppelgänger soulmate?

"The Doctor wore them, didn't he?" he whispered regretfully, not even able to look her in the eyes.

He had. Rose hadn't even thought about that until Alec assumed correctly. She couldn't get in a row with Alec about it now, or ever. It frustrated her, because she didn't even know! Maybe she did bloody like Alec's specs because the Doctor wore them! Which, would completely confuse her on everything else! Then, did she find Alec handsome because she thought the Doctor was handsome? Was she even attracted to Alec at— ** _NO_**. Alec was nothing like the Doctor with his floppy hair and beard and wrinkly, normal-fitting suit. She couldn't let him think that he was any sort of replacement. Because he wasn't. She didn't come looking for a bloody copy of the Doctor. Why would she? How would that make her feel any better? She fell in love with a man who's favourite colour was red and loved bloody eighties music, oddly enjoyed the A-Team, and had a teenage daughter named Daisy.

She couldn't compare the two ever. Not for any of their sakes.

"He did on occasion," Rose nodded. "But his were different."

That really didn't make him feel any better. However, what _did_ make him feel better was when he heard her whisper "hey" and felt her hands cup his face, guiding it so he'd be forced to look her in the eyes. "I came here for you."

He'd sometimes have to be reminded that she loved him. And that was okay with her. She'd sometimes have to be reminded that she didn't love him because of _him_. And that was okay with him too.


	13. Chapter 12: Plateau

_Listen to: "Re: Stacks" by Bon Iver or "The Piano Duet" by Danny Elfman_

* * *

 ** _Chapter 12: Plateau_**

* * *

Alec's glare was the only thing that ended up deviating the other detectives' attention away from himself and Rose as the two walked back into the main room, in the direction of his office.

"I'll assume they stared at you like that when you came in?" Alec spoke only once the door to his office was shut and his blinds drawn.

"Pretty much," Rose answered, leaning against his desk. "I was wondering if you'd like to take your lunch break with me and Tony."

"Tony?"

"He's with Ellie. She's giving him a tour," she explained.

"Oh, would you want to invite Ellie then, so she could, uh…" he didn't know how to continue his thought.

"So she could look after him so he'd leave us alone?" she finished for him with a smirk.

"Yeah, that," he pointed a finger at her.

"Then yes."

Alec moved to linger in front of Rose.

She reached out and grabbed his hand, tugging him all that bit closer. "I really do like them, you know. On you." Rose gestured up to the specs he had put back on before they left the break room.

"Yeah?"

"I like everything on you though," she replied. "Even your suit."

"Oi! What's wrong with my suit?" He looked down at himself.

Rose let out a laugh. "Don't worry about it, I'll buy you an iron sometime."

He gave her an amused look before sighing and holding her face in his hands. He ran his thumb over her lips, across her cheek, and then back down again. "You're so—" He stopped himself from finishing. He wanted to say beautiful or perfect but, he didn't want to sound so…cheap. Cheap because he couldn't find a word better 'beautiful' or 'perfect,' something everyone has heard over and over and over again. But, there were no words to describe Rose. Only reactions. Reactions to how she made him feel. So, refreshed. Cleansed. Pure. _New_.

"Yeah?" she answered him, like she had heard that missing word. Like she had filled in the missing piece.

Hardy nodded before leaning in and brushing his lips against her, all so faintly. Their noses touched and Rose's eyes fluttered closed. She let out the smallest sighs, and that was all he needed to compel him press his lips against her.

She straightened up from her position on the desk, covering his hands with her own in order to guide them down to her waist. Leaving his hands there, she brought one up to hang onto his lapel and the other to rest on his shoulder.

It was very sweet. Nothing intense, nothing rushed. They stood there, snogging lazily, in his office that he would most definitely never be able to look at the same again ('Rose and I snogged there').

Every once and awhile they'd pause for a lingered breath or their hands would change positions. Hardy would remember each and everyplace one of his hands fell. Her hips. Her neck. Her back. Her face. Her arm. Every once and awhile he'd begin to move it down in the direction of her bum, chicken out, and hurriedly rest it on the small of her back, hoping she wouldn't notice the hesitation there.

But really, Rose did, and she never said anything because she liked how he hesitated. She liked being able to _feel_ him think. Feel him make decisions—make choices. It made it all the more real.

And what she'd give to be able to hear him think. Hear his every thought. Be able to know exactly how he felt around her, without the use of words.

"Do you always make a habit of snogging women in your office?" Rose teased after she finally managed to make herself pull away from him.

One of Alec's hands had moved up to the crown of her head, running his fingers along her row of stitches. "Only when you're in town," he grinned before pecking his lips lightly on top of the row. "When do you get these out?"

"I'll probably go in tomorrow," she said.

He smiled. "I dunno, I might miss 'em."

"Yeah, alright, I'll just leave 'em in then, eh?" she shook her head.

"If you say so," he played along.

She laughed at that. "You're stupid."

"Maybe stupidly in love?" Hardy closed his eyes and let out a disgruntled sigh as soon as he said it.

However, Rose didn't seem to mind it at all, replying: "Same."

His eyes opened and he cockily tilted his head to the side with a sly grin. "Really? And here I thought that line was complete rubbish."

"It is a bit drug-store card-y," she truthfully admitted, "but I'll let it slide, just this once."

"Oh yeah, sure," he laughed, nodding.

"Yeah, I mean it. You're gonna have to improve big time on the lines, _Inspector_."

" _Alec_ ," he growled before swooping up Rose's lips with his own.

She yanked on his tie, pulling him even closer to her, his breath hot against hers. "Alec," she whispered on his mouth.

His stomach coiled in tightly at hearing her breathe out his name—spurring him on to take his hand that was on her temple and tangle it in her hair, tilting her head for a better angle.

Again, he hesitated. This time though, with his tongue. He wanted to snog her properly (and by that he meant _filthily_ ); feel her tongue against his, run his tongue along the roof of her mouth, share every last bit of the same air.

Before he decided whether or not he would even consider venturing out, she pulled away again. This time, panting and flustered (the best kind of Rose Tyler). "You know, you're gonna have to end it sometimes too. I can't always be the practical one," she smirked.

He gave her a helpless shrug. "It's more difficult than you make it look."

"So, do you not have any work?"

"Uhm," he had to think, "I have a case right now, but it's, uh, very small."

"Really? What is it?"

"Yeah, it seems someone's been digging up some lady's flowers lately."

"You're kidding!"

"I know," he said comically, "Horrible crime, that is."

"And are all you lot working on that?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "It's such a burden," he added facetiously.

"And you're the boss, then?"

"Well, of this ministry, at least. CS Jenkinson is my boss."

Rose gave him a mischievous smile and took hold of his tie again, her eyes flitting around his face. "I quite like a boss, I think."

He could feel his face heating up and blood begin to pump to _other_ areas of his body. "You…you do?"

She nodded. "Very much so."

Hardy licked his lips and began leaning in, when his mobile began to ring. He gritted his teeth and cursed the timing. "Bloody hell," he whispered under his breath while digging around in his jacket pocket for it while Rose giggled.

"Unhappy, I take it?"

"Quite," he affirmed before pressing answer. "Detective Hardy," he spoke into the phone.

 _Detective Hardy_. The way he said it made Rose bite her lip. He looked so…official in his suit and tie, talking on his mobile like he meant business. And what lay underneath the suit…oh, Rose's palms grew sweaty.

Had she been this sexually turned on with the Doctor? Again, she was comparing, but she kind of wanted to know. Definitely not with Mickey. Jimmy Stone…oh maybe.

Maybe she was so horribly turned on because she hadn't had bloody sex in nearly ten years. Ten. Years. She was a prude! A prude who was very much noticing how tall Alec was, how the suit he wore really wasn't all that baggy, and how much she wanted to lick—.

"Tony's hungry?" she heard him speak into the phone and her heart nearly leapt out of her chest.

"Tony!" she gasped frantically. "I forgot!"

Alec turned to look at the clock on his wall. "Oh yeah, it is almost one already. We'll meet you in the park then."

"Oh, mum is gonna have my head for forgetting him," Rose said as he hung up his phone and placed it back in his suit jacket.

"Don't worry about it, we'll get him some lunch. He isn't gonna starve, right?"

"Well, I suppose not," she smiled slightly.

"Right. Then let's go."

She couldn't help but say it. "Allons-y!"

"Allons-y?" Alec scrunched up his nose as he opened the door of his office. It definitely didn't work with the Scots, she had to admit.

"French for 'let's go,'" Rose explained.

"No, I don't quite like that," he shook his head.

She laughed. "Yeah, I forgot it wasn't Scottish."

"Oi! We speak English!"

"Sorry, I don't speak Scottish."

"Oh…shove it."

#

After much begging from Rose, Alec, and Tony in the car park, Ellie eventually agreed to hop into the backseat of Rose's vehicle next to Tony and come along with them to lunch.

"And then Miss Ellie let me ring the sirens!"

"Really?" Rose looked at Tony through her mirror. "I bet that was loud!"

"Duh!" Tony giggled. "But fun!"

"He was very well-behaved," Ellie nodded.

"Well good," Rose said. "I'm sure mum and dad will love to hear that!"

"Oh, I almost forgot! Did you know the funny hats they wear actually mean stuff?"

"Really?"

"Yeah! The white ones are for traffic people, and the black ones are for foot and…uh…" He had trouble remembering the other one.

"Mobile patrol," Ellie reminded him.

"Yeah! That one! And the different jewels on the front mean whether or not you're important or not!"

Hardy couldn't help but chuckle at the boy's phrasing.

"Are you gonna be in the police someday, Tony?" Rose asked.

He shrugged. "Either that or a superhero."

Hardy turned around in the passenger seat and gave Tony a pat on the knee. "Good lad!"

"Maybe I can work with you someday, Detective Hardy!"

"Oh, I might be too old by then, Tony," he smiled.

"So? I'll push you around in your wheelchair!"

Rose and Ellie burst out laughing. "Oh, I can just see it now," Ellie tittered.

"Thanks Tony," Hardy half-heartedly replied.

"Where are we eating for lunch? I kinda want pizza," Tony said.

Rose gave Alec a quick glance before replying: "I don't know. Maybe we could—"

It was that brief look that Ellie noticed from Rose that made her realise that Rose knew about Hardy. "Tony," she jumped into the conversation, interrupting Rose, "how would you like to eat lunch with me so Hardy and Rose can get some alone time? Hm?"

"Would we eat pizza?" he asked in response.

"'Course!"

"What are they going to eat?"

Ellie turned towards Rose and Hardy. "There's a pizza place a couple blocks from here, and next to it is a pub, if you two would rather do that."

"Rose?" Alec said.

"Yeah, let's do that then," she nodded. "Tony, will you behave yourself?"

"Yes ma'am," he automatically replied.

"Alright, Alec, tell me how to get there," Rose said.

"Uh," he leaned forward in his seat. "After the next light take a right."

#

"Do you think I'm a rubbish sister?" Rose asked Alec after they were seated inside the pub and had their drinks (two waters because she had to drive and he had to return to work).

"Why, because you stuck Tony with Ellie again?" he seemingly asked honestly before taking a sip.

"Well, you just know how to console a girl, hm?" she shook her head.

"Oh, did that come out wrong?"

She chuckled lightly and nodded.

"Sorry, I'm used too—"

"Accusin' and provin'?" she cut him off.

He rolled his eyes. "Or something like that, yeah. But, I'm pretty sure you have that in the wrong order."

" _Alec_ ," she whined, draw out the syllables in his name. "You have to be honest. Am I being completely selfish?"

"Well, speaking as a biased third-party spectator," he began, to her amusement, "I'd have to go with a no."

"But as an unbiased third-party spectator?"

"I'll always be biased, Rose," he said.

She let his words linger for a bit, rather liking the sincerity in his tone, before continuing. "It's just…the last ten years of my life have been selfish. I left my mum to go traveling with a stranger leaving her scared half to death. I didn't come back home for a whole year, and everyone thought I was dead. Then before the whole parallel world incident, I was gonna leave my mum on the other side for forever to stay with him." She buried her forehead into her hand. "I'm gonna need a stronger drink," she half-heartedly laughed.

"Rose," he leaned in closer to her and brought his voice to a softer level, "I don't think you're selfish at all."

"But you…you've never been selfish. Taking the blame for your wife….I could never do that."

"Would you not have done that for the Doctor?"

"Took the blame, you mean?"

"Yeah. You're telling me you wouldn't have done something like that for him?"

Of course she would've. She bloody saved his life time after time again without any thought of what could happen to her. "Well, no. I mean, yeah…of course I would've," she said.

"Then you're not selfish at all. Especially since you're sitting here worrying about being selfish. Someone who was truly selfish wouldn't think they were.

"And you're wrong about me, you know," he ventured on. "I've done plenty of selfish things in my life."

"Hm, like what?"

He needed to change the subject. He wanted to be talking about Rose, not himself. "You're turn is up I believe. It's my turn for the asking," he gave her a smile.

It was clear to Rose he didn't want to talk about, not yet. And she understood. Of course she did. She just wanted to be talking about Alec, not herself.

After their order had been taken, and their food brought to them, they were on question twelve.

"Hm, oh I know," Hardy said, pointing his fork at her. "What was your most embarrassing moment from primary?"

"Oi, I'm gonna get you back for that, Hardy," Rose shook her head.

"Cough it up then," he egged her on.

She held up her hand as she chewed a bite of her scampi. After swallowing: "Alright. So, in primary, I might've pissed myself during gym."

"Oh come on, we've all been there, done that," he waved her off dismissively.

"Really? While wearing a skirt? And playing double dutch?"

A smirk spread across Hardy's face. "Oh, you were double dutchin' it?"

"Yeah, and we had co-ed gym so there were _boys_. I was completely mortified."

"Oo," he made a face. "That's rough."

"It gets worse," she grimaced.

"You didn't," he gave her a strong look.

"I did…I slipped and fell."

She began to laugh, which made him feel like it was okay to laugh. "Okay, aye, that was better than expected."

"Oh, but like I said before, I am _so_ gonna get you back."

"Nope, I adamantly refuse to answer any question regarding my embarrassing moments in primary."

"What comes around goes around," she shook her head. "You gotta answer it!"

"Not ever."

"Oi! You asked me!"

"That's because I thought it would be some cute story of how you accidentally chopped your hair off with a pair of scissors, not piss."

"I did do that!" She pointed a finger at him and gasped. "I gave myself bangs!"

"And that wasn't more embarrassing than the piss?"

"I _slipped_ in it," she reminded him.

"Alright, alright. Yeah, you're right."

"Now answer it!"

"Okay," he relented, "but it might not be as good as the piss slip."

"Fuck you," she teased.

"I don't think I care for your language."

"Alec!"

"Oi! I get it! It happened at one of those Christmas pageants that they had every year. Did you have those?"

"Oh, I hated those," she scrunched up her nose. "Always got stuck as one of the angels."

"Couldn't sing?"

"No, they liked how I had blonde hair. Said I looked like the _perfect little angel_."

"Oh, I bet you looked adorable."

"What were you? I bet you were one of the Wise Men, eh?"

"Well, that year I was actually Joseph, so I was pretty excited. But then again, I got it because I was the only lad who wasn't shorter than Mary."

Rose laughed. "Oh my god. What happened?"

"So in the script, I had to take 'baby Jesus' out of the manger and hand it off to Mary, right? But instead of using a baby doll they used this like three kilo bag of rice wrapped in cloth."

"Ew, why?"

"While the teacher wasn't looking we'd pop its head off and throw it around."

"You lot were horrible!"

"Hince the sack of rice. However, one of my mates thought it would be hilarious to poke a few holes in it before the before."

She covered her mouth with her hands. "So the rice would slowly drop out?"

"Right. So, when I picked it up and put it in my arms," he acted out holding the sack in his arms, "the sack ending up ripping from all of the cuts in it and all of the rice spilled all over my shoes. In front of everyone."

"What did you do?" she laughed.

"I dropped the leftovers, grabbed huge handfuls of rice off of the floor, and threw it in the air and shouted 'Be free baby Jesus!'"

"You didn't!"

"No, I didn't. Wish I had though. I ended up running off the stage."

"Mine still beats yours, though," she said.

"'Course. You are the Queen of the Double Dutch Piss Slip."

Once the humour had died off and Rose and Hardy had both finished their lunch, Hardy asked the thirteenth question. "Why didn't you want to eat pizza?"

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I…it wasn't because of you."

"Yes it was. Rose, I told you, I'm fine."

"I know you are," she looked down at the bar top they were sitting at and ran her finger along the threads of wood. "I just don't want anything to happen to you, 's all."

"I don't plan on going anywhere, you know."

"But _I_ don't know if _I_ plan on going anywhere," she sighed. "I don't know where I want to go. I don't what I want to do."

He remained silent, so she rambled on. "But I know who I want to be with." She looked up at him, he listening intently. "My answer is that I…I didn't want to eat pizza because I want you to live for forever. Yeah? And my question is…my question is: do you know your plans?"

"No one lives for forever," he replied.

"I just want you there for me, which is…"

"But I plan to be. That's my plan. I plan to be with you as long as it works. If you haven't noticed already, nothing really ties me anywhere."

"What about Ellie?"

"…At the end of the day, I go home alone and Ellie goes home to a family."

She looked down at her lap. "…Your daughter?"

He sighed. "She turns 16 this year. She's a stranger now."

Rose took his hand that rested on his leg and threaded her fingers with his. "Come to my house tonight for dinner," she said decidedly.

"…Rose, I don't know if—"

"I'm ready now," she began. "I'm ready for a relationship. Are you?"

With Rose Tyler? Of course he was.


	14. Chapter 13: Hillock

_Listen to: "For Emma" by Bon Iver or "To Build a Home—Radio Version" by The Cinematic Orchestra_

* * *

 ** _Chapter 13: Hillock_**

* * *

He had expected as much from Ellie: for her to ask him that particular question as soon as Rose's car drove away. That very telling question that proved everything to be true.

"I take it she knows, then?"

"Knows what?" Hardy asked as the two walked into the station.

"The pizza place. You told her about your—?" She cut herself off because she knew he knew what she was referring to.

"I might've," he grumbled.

"So it's serious, then."

"Ellie, work from personal, please."

"Yeah, yeah."

Only a few minutes of silence went by until she spoke again once they were on the lift. "I just have to know…is the twin thing an issue?"

"Ellie," he warned.

"Oh go fuck yourself, Hardy."

#

Tony had told each member of the family the exact same story detailing his eventful day, from meeting real police officers to convincing Ellie to try pizza with pineapple (she apparently liked it (Tony had hoped she would spit it up)).

Rose on the other hand, did not share quite as many details on her actions when asked by her family, leaving it brief to responses like "Yeah, we talked in his office for a bit" and "I had the scampi." However, her side of the conversation detoured from the monotonous when she told her dad that she had invited Alec over for dinner (she would have never told her mum first).

"Really?" he seemed surprised.

"Yeah, I thought that I'd make Toad-in-the-hole since we got flour," Rose answered.

"It's moving that fast?"

"What is?"

"You and Detective Hardy…are you two dating?"

Rose blushed. "Well," she fiddled with the telly remote, "yeah."

"Rose, we're gonna be leaving soon. Probably in the next week or so. Is that really practical?"

"Practical? Why does it matter if _you're_ leaving soon?" she replied completely and utterly impulsively.

"Wait, are you saying you're gonna stay here with him?"

Hold on… _was_ that what she was saying? They had begun dating only an hour ago, and now she was telling her dad she was moving in with him? Alec would probably freak out if he knew that she was even considering it…or would he? He had told her that she was his plan. Would that plan not involve commitment and domestic things like that?

Did _she_ want that sort of commitment? She wasn't thinking clearly…or was she? She had so eagerly jumped into the Tardis, wouldn't she just as eagerly jump at the chance to stay? If she loved him as much as she loved the Doctor?

"I don't know, I haven't decided yet," she eventually answered with a sigh.

"You can do whatever you want, you know that, but I need to tell you something that I wasn't planning on telling you till we got back to London, but since you and him are…yeah, you need to know."

"Know what?"

"…The Torchwood panel is planning to reinstate you as a field agent and as a consultant once we return to London. Your doctors had good things to say, and I explained how much better you were doing, and we agreed that were welcome back now that everything is calm again."

She was going to be reinstated into Torchwood? Her stomach dropped. She had been so pissed that they had dropped her before, but now she couldn't imagine going back after being away for so long. "You did?"

"I've been trying to get you back since we dropped you, Rose," Pete said. "It just took some time."

"Do you lot need me?" she asked.

"Well, we could do with someone as experienced as you. But I know that you've grown close with the Detective."

"Alec," Rose corrected him.

He nodded. "Sorry, with Alec."

"I don't know what to say…" she shook her head. "I…I can't even think of going back after you lot were the ones that stuck me in that _place_ for so long."

Pete dragged his hand across his jaw. "You know that wasn't our call. We couldn't keep sending you to Torchwood doctors. Especially since you—" His voice faded.

"At least you finally got me out, right?" she snapped. "Only took you three years."

"Rose—" he started, she cutting him off by standing up from the sofa.

"You're ruining it for me! Last time I couldn't choose!"

"Last time?"

"Mickey! I bloody left Mickey behind for the aliens and the adventure, and I lost him! I'm not losing Alec for the same shite!" she spit before flashing out of the lounge, heading towards her bedroom.

She practically flew to her chest of drawers once inside, opening up a specific drawer and digging around underneath the stacks of clothes until she pulled out what she had been looking for.

She rested her hand against the front cover, backing up until she sat on the edge of her bed.

"I'd do it all again, you know," she whispered. Rose turned it over and lightly touched the key that was taped on the back. "It was worth it."

Opening it up, she flipped to her favourite entry:

 _1879 "Are we in Scotland?"_

 _Ian Dury was frivolous compared to the Scottish moors. I could never have been upset, landing in such a beautiful place, meeting Queen Victoria, and being given a royal title (only to be banished to my chagrin)._

 _Always remember how the Doctor looked when he was laughing with you_ _. We were gambling about the Queen's "we are not amused". Remember? Yes. Never forget. That is always a good memory to have. Forget the haemophilia or whatever, just remember_ _him_ _._

 _Remembrance Starting Points_ _:_

· _big diamond thing_

· _Doctor's unbuttoned oxford and no tie that you hated_

· _EVIL TORCHWOOD origin story_

#

Yes, he was nervous. Jackie and Pete bloody scared him for one, and it was _Rose_ with her giant grin and soft hair. And he was **dating** her. He hadn't dated anyone since Tess, nearly twenty years ago now. Had it changed? Maybe instead of shaking hands with the dad, people bowed now…he had no clue. For all he knew, dating was the equivalent of marriage now. Marriage. Oh lord, that was a whole 'nother can of worms. Marriage to Rose. That sounded fantastic, but…he couldn't possibly even think of it in his right mind, right? After Tess? He knew he shouldn't base everything off of that, but maybe he was just one of those lads that women liked cheating on. That women walked all over. But of course he trusted Rose, however he had trusted _her_ too.

Hardy had to remember it went both ways. He would never do anything to betray Rose. He could just see her face now if he did. Oh, he never wanted to see that face—the eyebrows furrowed and her mouth crumbled. No, he wanted to see her like she should: a pure dead brilliant smile on her face.

He really cared about her. He loved her. At lunch when he had told her that she was his plan, he meant it. He'd drop everything in a heartbeat to go chasing after her, even if she didn't want him to. From a respective point of view, he felt like he had never fancied Tess as much as Rose. How could he? Everything in his mind was clouded over by her, tinting everything a shade of brilliant Rose. Everything was compared to her. He'd walk past a flower vender with roses and think of her. He'd walk past the chippy and think of her. He'd walk past that white beach house and think of her. How could he ever think anything else? He couldn't remember a time where he looked at roses, or chips, or that house and thought of anything other than Rose Tyler.

That's the strangest thing about getting to really know someone; you can't imagine your life without them. Even if he never saw her again, she'd still be there in the back of mind. You can never get rid of someone who drastically changed who you are as a person.

He owed a debt to Rose for changing him. For…for making him not so austere. So, he wanted to make her happy, happy enough to stay with him for as long as it worked (hopefully the rest of his life). Therefore, when Hardy walked past that flower vender on the way to the beach house and saw the roses, he asked if they had any English Roses, you know, to make her happy. They didn't actually have them, apparently they're bred specially or something fancy like that, but they had pink roses (what they said was a 'close' second (even though Rose deserved better than any 'close' second)) and that's what he aversely bought and brought to the Tylers front door step.

Hardy rang the doorbell and there _she_ was—her hair tied back and she in some jumpsuit thing with small straps and hardly any fabric on her legs. Her eyes immediately cut down to the bouquet in hands, and he felt horribly cheesy standing there like in some cliché romantic film.

"You didn't have to get me anything," she smiled.

"They didn't have English Roses," he explained for the 'close' second choice, holding out the flowers to her.

She laughed at him but took the bouquet. "Yeah, they only have those online for the Americas."

"Well, that's rubbish."

"You're telling me!" Her free hand roamed along the door handle. "Aren't you gonna kiss me before you come in?"

Hardy broke out into a soft smile before stepping to her side that wasn't occupied by voluminous flowers and pressed a firm kiss on her waiting mouth.

"Now you may," she sighed as she broke away.

He stepped inside after she had moved, Rose already talking readily. "So, I made Toad-in-the-hole, it's in the oven," she said, closing the door behind Hardy, "and the vegetables and mash are already ready."

"You didn't have to cook anything special," he shook his head. "I was fine with eating out."

"Yeah, well _you_ didn't have to bring these flowers," her hand played with the petals.

"Alright. Draw," he conceded.

Tony then came running down the stairs off to the side from his bedroom, shouting: "Detective Hardy! Detective Hardy!"

"Hey, lad! What have you been up to?" Hardy greeted him.

"Imma go put this in a vase," Rose told Hardy, pointing at the flowers, before walking off.

As he looked at her as she walked away, he felt two tiny little arms wrap around his legs in a tight grip. He tensed as he turned to look down at the little boy staring up at him with wide eyes. "Do you think Rose looks pretty? I picked that out for her!"

"I do," he nodded. "Could you?" he gestured down to his legs and Tony wrapped around them.

"Where's Miss Ellie?" Tony asked, still having not let go.

"At home, I presume."

"Awh, but I like her."

"Do you do this to her too?" Hardy quipped, gesturing once again to his legs.

"Yeah, but she likes it more than you do, Detective Hardy."

"You can call me Alec if you'd like."

Tony tilted his head. "Why?"

"You call Ellie by her name."

"That's because _you_ call her by her name. You call yourself Hardy instead of _Alec_."

As Hardy searched for a response but couldn't find one, Pete came from around the corner. "Tony! Get off him! You look ridiculous!" he scolded his son as soon as he laid eyes on him.

Tony pouted as he scrambled off of Hardy's legs.

"Go on and help your sister with dinner, then," Pete gestured.

After Tony had gone the same way as Rose, Pete turned to Hardy (to Hardy's dread). "I hear you and Rose are together now."

"I…uh, yes," he said, a bit fearful (to be completely honest). He hadn't really ever had much of a conversation with Pete (especially not alone).

"I think you're good for her actually," Pete nodded in a strange twist of events.

"Wait, what?"

"I haven't seen her this happy in years and years…I just want to know, how'd you do it?"

"Uh, do what?"

"Make her change like that?"

"I hadn't really noticed she had," Hardy put simply. "She's always been the same to me."

Pete smiled. "Yeah, I guess she has, maybe."

#

When she saw her father towards the front door she couldn't help but turn to her mum (who was eying the bouquet, now in a vase, with a critical gaze) and complain. "Mum, couldn't you have spoken with dad before, especially since me and him had a tiff?"

"You really need to stop blaming him for what happened with Torchwood you know, he has other people he had to report to," her mother replied while leaning down to sniff the flowers.

"I don't!" Rose put down the dish she was cleaning in the sink with a huff. "I was just cross! I didn't mean it!"

"You meant the stuff about Mickey though," she pointed out.

Rose's mouth dropped open. "He bloody just tell you everything, then?"

"I just didn't know Mickey was on the same level as the Detective."

"His name is Alec, for the last time," she snapped, "And he's not. But at the time, I thought me and Mickey had something. You know? It was like, the first stage of love. Yeah? And the Doctor was a step higher, and now Alec's a step higher." She paused. "But it all hurts the same," she added in a murmur.

"So you aren't coming back with us?"

Rose shook her head and looked away from her mother. "Don't you dare give me that same face you gave me every time I left with the Doctor. I've stayed with you for the last eight years."

"Yeah, against your will," she half-laughed.

"And where would we be if I hadn't left with him? Hm? At the estate, no Pete or Tyler, watching EastEnders and doing nothing good. Sometimes it's a constant, mum, and you can't change that fact."

"A constant?"

"A constant in space and time. Like dad's death. It can never be changed or altered. It has to happen."

"Then, that means you think that staying here with Alec is a constant?"

"It has to be. I wouldn't be happy anywhere else."

"…You're sure about this?"

Rose turned to look back at her mum. "If the Doctor came back today, I'd turn 'm down. That's how completely sure I am about it."

#

"What's your favourite superhero, Detective?" Tony asked, leaning across the table. Rose and Alec both had given up on the 'Alec' thing six questions ago.

"Uh, Spiderman I suppose."

Tony gave him a look of pure shame. "Try again."

Rose giggled and leaned over in Alec's ear, whispering: "Captain America."

"Captain America, I'd have to say," Alec parroted.

"Did Rose tell you the answer?" Tony narrowed his eyes at a seemingly clueless Rose.

"No, she told me Superman and I said that that was absurd."

Tony burst out in laughter, pointing at Rose. "Rose that's the worst one!"

"Yeah, Rose," Hardy shook his head. "Such a shame. I might have to rethink everything."

Rose playfully slapped Alec on the arm. "You two are complete rubbish."

"No, Superman is!" Tony snickered.

"Come on, Tony," Pete said from down the table. "Don't you think you should give someone else a turn to interrogate the Detective?"

"Dad!" Rose groaned. "Really?"

"What I haven't a go yet!"

"What do you call that at the front door then?" Rose gestured down the hall.

"Stretching!"

Rose looked to her mother for support, but Jackie shrugged with her hands before getting back to scooping more vegetables on Tony's plate, only to have him flick them off of his plate and onto the table. "Stop that!" Jackie hissed at her son.

"How long have you been a detective here?" Pete asked Hardy.

"About two years now," he answered, his eyes flicking to Rose's.

"You like living here?" her dad asked him.

"It's alright."

Rose narrowed her eyes at her dad, knowing what he was trying to do. Trying to convince her not to stay. That she'd miss London. But that would never happen, her missing London. What she'd miss more was Alec, her reason for staying anywhere.

"Ever get kind of, oh I don't know…bored?" Pete continued.

Alec drew in a breath and hesitated.

"I quite like it here, I don't know about you," Rose jumped in and smiled in spite of her father, reaching over to take Alec's hand that rested on his thigh.

Alec turned his head and gave her look that she knew meant an unsure 'Yeah?', so Rose nodded, knowing she was right when she felt his fingers press more firmly against hers.

#

After dinner, Rose flicked on the light in her room before she and Alec entered, letting him the see the full of state of things: messy. Half-empty luggage bags were strewn across the floor with piles of laundry surrounding it. A stack of books sat on top of her side table and her bedspread was half on the bed, half lingering on the floor.

"Sorry, I feel like I'm showing my teenage bedroom off," Rose joked haphazardly nudging a shoe out of her way.

"I wouldn't have imagined it any other way, really," he commented, turning to look at the generic black and white photograph of a garden path framed on her pink wall.

"I made my dad paint it before coming here, because, of um, bad memories," she winced, sitting down on the edge of her bed, looking towards Alec.

"I like the colour," Alec nodded, reaching out to press a finger on the wall.

"Yeah?"

"White's boring."

"Is that why your chalet is blue?" Rose grinned.

He turned to give a sly smirk. "Probably."

"Whose turn is it to ask the question?" she asked. "Yours?"

"I dunno," he said, moving to sit next to her on the bed. She automatically rested her head on his shoulder as the two faced her pink wall and nonspecific photo. "Don't know if I have a question though."

"Ask me anything you want," she sighed in content. "I want you to know everything about me."

But what he had wanted to ask her, ever since that first day, she had already answered. What did he want to know now? What was more important than any Doctor or parallel universe or… _oh_. He knew what Pete Tyler was going on about at dinner. The Tylers must be planning on returning to London soon. Of course they were. And, of course Rose would refuse to return with them, because she was stubborn Rose. The first time he had asked her how long she was gonna stay, she answered as long as her parents stayed, naturally. That was only four days ago, and yet he knew Rose's answer had changed drastically. Did he want it to change? Of course he did, but he had to remind himself, before she fell for him—before they fell for each other—, she answered: 'Depends on how long my parents want to stay, I suppose.' That was very important, because if he wasn't with her, she'd leave. She didn't like it in Broadchurch, who did, really? She liked it in London: _her home_. "Did you tell your dad you were going to stay here with me?"

Her head popped off his shoulder. "Well, I—"

"No, I'm not…" Hardy interrupted only to have himself trip over his own words. "I…" he sighed, "I'm not freaking out. Of course I'd want you to stay. It's just…don't leave your home for me. You have somewhere to call home. That's something so special. Something I don't have the luxury of."

"You're really, truly stupid aren't you?" Rose shook her head, making Hardy's eyes widen in astonishment. "London isn't my home. Especially not that mansion I'm holed up in right now. It's just a constant reminder that I was once in that mansion with the Doctor. I fucking _hate_ London. It's so bloody crowded and the traffic's horrible. All of the chips there taste like chemicals and," her voice faltered, " _you're_ not there. So don't you think for one second that London's my home."

"Rose," he gulped, "I'm sorry I shouldn't've said that. I just don't want you rotting here like me."

"Then don't rot here. We could go anywhere. Canada, like you said," she brought her face close to his. "Where do you want to go? I'll go with you. Anywhere. I promise."

"I want you to have a home."

She smiled. "Then build me one, _Inspector_."

"It'd look like absolute rubbish."

"Then we'll paint it blue and hope for the best," she laughed.

He chuckled. "Oh, what a sight to see."

Not as heated as before, Rose put her head back on his shoulder. "But you still never answered me."

"I suppose Canada _would_ be nice. But our accents would stand out like a sore thumb. And I'm sure you'd miss fish and chips," he poked her arm.

"Alright, then let's stay in Britain then, hm? How about Glasgow? Never been there before."

"Really? After all of your travelin'?"

"No," she said. "Been rather close though. Visited the Moors once."

"Where all _have_ you been?"

"Next question?"

"Sure, I'll go with that."

"You've believed me up to this point, right?"

"Yes," he affirmed.

"Then hopefully you'll believe me when I tell you I've been everywhere."

"Like, every continent?"

Rose giggled. "No, I mean _everywhere_. Different planets, different times… _everywhere_."

Alec looked down at Rose. "Wait, you're saying the Doctor was a time traveler?"

"Time _and_ space traveler."

"But, in the other world. Where you're from."

"Right," she nodded.

"So, even with something that can do all that, he still can't—?"

"No," she said. "Not ever."

"How could you do it the first time, then? If it's not somethin' you can do?"

"Crack in time caused by my world. He had to close it to save everyone. But I fell in." She swallowed.

Hardy could tell he shouldn't have brought it up again. "Tell me about where he took you," he refocused her. "Tell me the craziest place you went."

"I saw the end of Earth on my first trip with him."

"Should I even ask when that might be?"

Rose laughed. "I don't think you have to worry about that anytime soon. Unless you're planning on living for another couple billion years."

"Billion? I guess we're all in the clear then, yeah?" he joked.

"Yeah, by then everyone on Earth's gone to different planets."

"Why?"

"Uninhabitable, you know, from _smog_ or something I guess," Rose waved her hand in the air.

"So when does the Earth become uninhabitable?"

She sat back and thought for a moment. "…I actually don't know. Probably millions and millions and millions of years from now," she shrugged.

"Yeah, probably," he nodded, his mind still a bit preoccupied by the time traveler thing and the fact he was a complete step down from this alien doctor lad.

"…I'm not settling for you, you know," Rose spoke his mind.

"No, Rose, it's fine. He's not here. I get it."

She kicked off her trainers and climbed on the bed, kneeling behind Alec and wrapping her arms around his neck. "You know what I told my mum while my dad was interrogating you in the other room?" She rested her chin on his shoulder.

"What?" he managed to get out while feeling Rose's torso pressed against his back and her breath against his neck.

"I told her that even if the Doctor came back today, I'd turn 'm down for you."

Hardy felt a twinge in his heart and he brought a hand up to rest it on Rose's arm. "Rose, you can't mean that."

She turned her head to the side to whisper hotly in his ear: "But I really, really do. You're my **constant**."

"You never told me what that was."

"A constant across all of space and all of time. It can never be anything different."

"I don't know if I can promise you that, Rose."

"I don't need you to, because I already know. Love is a promise, and I know that you love me. You don't need to tell me anything." Rose then brought her mouth to his cheek and pressed an open-mouthed kiss against it.

His eyes fluttered shut and he murmured: " _Rose_."

"You're a good man, Alec. A hero for me."

Then he repeated her name, this time warningly, like she was talking without any sense.

"No," she grinned, "I know what I said. My question for you is: may I?"

Just as Hardy turned his head to look at Rose in confusion, she moved, swinging a leg over his lap to straddle him.

The corners of her mouth quirked up. "May I?"

Her arms wrapped around his neck and her fingers were in his hair and their noses were almost touching and… _the door to the bedroom was open_. "The door—"

"Oh trust me," Rose cut him off, "my dad won't let _anyone_ go upstairs for the fear of walking in on us." She grabbed his tie with one hand. "Besides, you need to live a little, hm?"

"But I don't think—"

She interrupted him again, this time though by tilting her head and bringing her lips to his neck, making him forget anything of what he was saying.

Alec's breath hitched and he brought his hands up to rest on her back.

She left his neck to move to his mouth, sloppily snogging him while loosening his tie enough so she could unbutton the first few buttons on his oxford with both hands.

Shoving his tongue into her mouth, he let a hand trail up to the expanse of her back not covered by her clothing, feeling her heated skin on the pads of his fingers.

Rose responded passionately to his tongue meeting hers, resting her hand on the exposed skin on his chest from the unbuttoned oxford. She sighed as he stroked her tongue with his.

She needed her clothes off; she needed to feel his chest against her, feel him _inside_ of her. She wanted to see his reaction to her naked. See if he'd bring his mouth to her chest and… _oh_ , she instinctively ground against him from her position and Alec responded with a low grumble.

His hands flew down to her arse and he ground up against her, letting her feel how incredibly hard she had made him.

She grinned against his mouth, noticing the pressure.

This was what he had wanted: _dirty and filthy_. Grinding Rose while shoving his tongue down her throat like they were teenagers, him growing harder and harder by the minute. His thumb stroked the fabric of her jumpsuit; she moved her spare hand up to comb his hair off of his forehead and latch it there with a firm grip. Rose's clothing became extremely sensitive against her skin as she grew more and more painfully aroused.

Alec suddenly willfully brought his mouth off of hers, only to let it cling to the underside of her jaw, making her gasp and her eyes blaze open, his tongue darting out and brushing against her skin.

She tilted her head further off to the side, utterly pleased with how it was all transpiring. Wait. No, she was pleased, but she wanted _more_ —she had a thirst for more of him. Grinding up against him once more, she brought her hands away from him to begin to bring the straps off her jumpsuit off her shoulders.

The movements from Rose did not go completely unnoticed by him, registering it only briefly for distraction from the barely audible noises she made in the depths of her throat in response to his attention to neck. However, when her movements became more evident as she pushed her arms through the straps, he realised with a jolt that she was _undressing_ for him. In her house, with her parents, and the open door, and his halfway unbuttoned oxford. Not where it was supposed to be: dimmed lights, sleek bed, _just the two of them_. No chance of a nightmarish encounter of Tony or Pete or bloody loud Jackie.

His hands moved quickly from her bum up to her arms at the same he brought his mouth away from her neck, Alec's hands stilling her from going any further and pulling down her jumpsuit ( _oh god_ , was she wearing a bra?). "Rose," he panted heavily, "I don't want to be rushed."

It was obvious that she was embarrassed, her cheeks tinged red (or were they like that before?) and she smiling a bit painfully. "Right, sorry, I got carried away, I guess."

"I want you, I just want to take my time with you," he promised. He gently let go of her arms in order to brush some smaller hairs that didn't quite fit into her bun away from her face. "You deserve everything," he added.

Rose gave him a shy smile. "It is kind of late, hm?" She began to button up his oxford. "Maybe another time?"

"Oh, definitely yeah," he answered, his pants still tight.

She rested her head on his shoulder after finishing with his buttons. "Can you come over again tomorrow for dinner?"

"Rose," he sighed, "if you want that we shouldn't do it here."

"No," she sternly replied. "Not _that_." She fiddled with the lapels of his jacket. "I just want you here with me. To spend time with you."

"I'd love that but, I would've come either way, you know," he joked.

"Yeah, I know," Rose giggled, relaxing against his torso.


	15. Chapter 14: Alp

_Listen to: "La Vie En Rose" by Cristin Milioti or "We Never Change" by Coldplay_

* * *

 ** _Chapter 14: Alp_**

* * *

The following night Rose decided to order pizza for dinner (to prove to Alec she wasn't _so_ overbearing), shooing away her family from the lounge so she could sit next to Alec and watch the telly, joking over the sitcom repeat and configuring the perfect ratio of pepperoni per slice (she found it was four, he found it was three). Eventually, Tony couldn't bear the confines of his room any longer, plopping onto the sofa next to Rose and demanding they change the channel to cartoons.

After they had left Tony alone in the lounge and relocated to Rose's bedroom, the pair laid on her bed and attempted to finish their game of twenty questions. Alec's question to Rose regarding whether she preferred talking on the telephone or texting steered them to go into a lengthy conversation about his pet peeve towards people talking to other people while on the telephone and how incredibly easy it was to misread text messages. Rose's question for Alec asking if he'd ever been on a plane lead to her mouth on his and a repeat of the day previous. Having gotten her stitches out earlier that day, he brushed over the scarred line it left behind with his fingers, and then later his lips, making her squirm underneath him.

They had their first phone call that next day while he was at work, she rang him on his mobile to ask him to another dinner (she had made sure not to ask him the previous night so she would have an excuse to ring him the next day). At first, the phone call was awkward, filled with lengthy silences and 'So, how are you?'s and 'What have you been up to?'s. But, when Rose went into a tale of how her Tony had played a prank on their mum by sticking tape to the bottom of their sink tap so it would spray her when she turned it on, Alec and Rose's conversation flowed more smoothly, ending up being on line with one another for an hour (at which Ellie burst into his office demanding to know why he hadn't answered her phone calls from out on the field).

Alec became a comfortable creature in the Tyler family that night, helping with the dishes after a meal of roast beef and playing Monopoly with Rose, Pete, and Tony (Jackie watched _Coronation Street_ while Rose pretended not to repeatedly glance back at the telly). After the group let Tony win they dispersed, Pete going to watch _The Cube_ , Tony going to rummage through the kitchen for where Jackie hid the sweets, and Alec and Rose heading back up to her bedroom.

That time they didn't even finish a single round of questions, Rose never getting her turn after Alec's innocent question of "What was your favourite subject in school?" got answered only after his tongue had been down her throat and his hips had been pressed against hers.

They never went farther than they had on that first night, always stopping before any clothing could come off, before they hit the point of no return.

And after Rose would gently remind him that he had to go to work in the morning just as he was beginning to think he could never, ever leave her side, the pair would stand on the front porch for the first few moments in silence until Rose remembered she would be returning up to an empty bed, then which she would throw herself on him, burying her face in his neck so he wouldn't be able to hear her mumble for him to please stay.

#

Just after noon the next day, Jackie and Rose lounged on the beach while Tony and Pete dashed through the water. Rose laid with her mobile in her hand, looking at the screen and waiting for the ring she expected from Alec, identical with the time frame he had rang her the day previous.

"Maybe he's busy, he can't come over _every_ night you know," Jackie commented after a half hour of no ring from Alec.

Rose wouldn't be completely devastated if he couldn't come to dinner, but she had to admit that she was getting used to having him around and it would be really weird to eat dinner alone that night.

"I know, it's just…" her voice wavered.

"You're _in love_ ," her mum drawled.

Rose rolled her eyes and groaned. "When you say it sounds so cheesy."

"Oh," she scoffed, "I'm sure you think everything I say sounds cheesy."

Jackie's daughter snorted and nodded in agreement. "…Do you think I should ring him?"

"Rose, he'll ring. I promise. You have that man wrapped around your finger, poor bloke."

"Oi! You do it to dad too!"

"Yes I do, and it's the most fun thing," she agreed. "I have something he wants more than anything, so he has to be good to get it."

" _Ew_ , mum! Keep that stuff to yourself! I don't wanna hear it!"

"Yeah, and I don't wanna hear your door shut upstairs and it go all quiet!" Jackie quickly retorted.

"It's not like we do anything! Especially with your nosy arse down the stairs!"

"Do you think he'll have good stamina?" her mum asked.

"Who?"

"Detective Hardy! He's sorta old, isn't he? What is he, like my age?"

Rose gasped. "He's forty-three! And I don't know! I don't really think that matters does it?" It didn't matter, of course not. Well… _no_. Sure he was a bit older, and the heart thing, but she _loved_ him. She'd even go celibate for him (god forbid). Celibate of all things! Besides, she hadn't had sex since 2005, what did _he_ expect out of her? Did he expect some beautiful, nimble, skilled woman? Is that what men his age wanted? She'd never been with a man so much older, Jimmy was only two years older, and Mickey was the greatest with nearly four. Alec was fifteen years older than her. In 2005, he was thirty-four! Why hadn't she been more worried about this before? She hadn't really noticed, or cared. Was he only with her because she was so young, and blonde, and rich? Like, a trophy girlfriend or something?

"It matters when you're lying there unsatisfied," her mum pointed out.

"Oh, and _dad_ leaves you satisfied?"

"Oh, _believe me_ Rose, I get my fix."

"You're very vulgar, you know that?"

"Raised in Peckham, yeah, I think that fits. As with you, Rosie. Don't lie, you've thought about it."

"About what?" she sighed, exasperated.

"His stamina! Maybe size? Hm? He's pretty tall, like six feet maybe? Wait, have you done that already? Give me an estimate, I'm interested."

"No!"

"To which question?"

"Everything! Everything you'll say next to too, knowing you!"

"Now, I beg your pardon? I am fully capable of—"

Rose's mobile buzzed in her hand, cutting her mum off. It was him. His name lit up on her screen, partially obscured from the glare from the sun. She scrambled up from her towel, eager to answer, but only to answer out of earshot from Jackie.

"Better answer that then," her mum grinned.

Rose shushed her, blushing, before walking away. "Hello?" she answered the phone.

"Hey, Rose, sorry I wasn't able to ring you earlier," she heard him say.

She grinned and absent-mindedly brushed the top layer of sand with the bottom of her foot, turning her back to the ocean. "No, it's fine. We're at the beach."

"Yeah, I thought I heard the waves. Did Tony find ever find his spade?"

She laughed, remembering her brother rushing throughout the house the previous night looking for it. "Yes, but you'll never guess where it was though."

"His bedroom."

"Of course, mum had to vacuum all the sand out of his closet." Rose glanced over her shoulder to Tony still in the water.

Alec laughed and paused before continuing with a heavy voice: "I can't come to dinner tonight."

She knew she shouldn't be as disappointed as she was. But her stomach dropped and her face slackened anyways. "No, that's fine. Don't worry about it."

"We have a real case, not that flower thief shite, and I'm gonna be here late," he explained.

"Really?" she tried to perk up her voice. "Tell me about it."

"A shop tried to give in counterfeit money to the bank, not realizing that a customer had used it."

"Oh, yeah, that _is_ a case," Rose giggled.

"I'm sorry, I can't talk for much longer."

The pit in her stomach dropped again as he began pacing leisurely across a few metres of the beach. "Alright, then I guess I'll ring you later, yeah?"

"Aye, I'd like that."

"Well," Rose began awkwardly just as he said: "Before I go—"

"Wait," she giggled, "what?"

Alec chuckled. "Sorry, you go first."

"No you, I didn't say much."

"I said 'before you go…'" his voice trailed off, then: "Can we finish the round?"

"It was my turn," she breathed.

"Aye."

She stopped mid-pace and stared blankly in front of her. "Will you be safe?"

Rose could hear his voice hitch on the other side. "…I love you," he promised in a hush.

"Good," she cracked a smile. "Bye, then."

"Bye, Rose," his voice sounded amused before she hung up.

#

Of course he missed Rose. Didn't really hit him though until he stepped into his chalet at the odd morning hour, turning on the lights and sinking onto the empty couch. That one painting of the clifftop lighthouse, she'd seen it on that sole day she sat on the couch beside him. Now he looked at it and it seemed strange. The small yellow dot of the sun was too big next to the figure of the lighthouse, and none of the colours blended like it should—Alec picking out each and every shade of yellow, red, purple, and blue. What had Rose thought of it? Was it as uninspiring as he saw it with its dingy wood frame? What did Rose think of him? Was he as uninspiring as that apathetic piece, with all the colours that didn't blend and the aged glass that coated it?

When he had bought the chalet, he'd hardly noticed it hanging there. Maybe taking a glance here or there, enough to know it was a painting of a lighthouse on a cliff. Now he couldn't stop looking. Every flaw showing. A random dark speck sitting in the ocean, and ill mix of colour near the bottom of the lighthouse creating a sickly cream. It was just _ugly_. There were two crooked waves and then a half of one…where did the rest of it go? If you looked at it right, the cliff the lighthouse sat on looked like the Loch Ness Monster, with one rock looking like its head barely breaching the water and the cliff looking like its curved back. On the bottom right was the artist's name, scribbled in what looked like children's chalk, a name that wasn't even legible by any means.

Frustrated with it, Alec stood, walked over to it, and picked it up off the hook, prepared to turn it the other way when he stopped suddenly to take a closer look at it.

Was the painting really a failure though? When he used to glance it, he could tell what it was: a lighthouse at sunset. Easy. Sunset. The sun was near the top of the water, yellow, with the reds and yellows hues of the sky painted so the lower the sky went, the darker the red became and the higher, the more yellow. Aye, he could see that now. The lighthouse sprouting from the cliff, the shadows just right so you couldn't see every detail of the structure. Like it was hidden in plain sight. The foaminess of the water, each tip of the long wave topped with a lighter blue than the rest. The water bubbled up near heaps of rock, the water in the horizon in a perfect curvy line. And, the sun wasn't a symmetrical circle. The haze of the sky obscured, turning some of the lines imperfect and off. The yellow tinted glass made it look like it all came out of an old camera lense, the wooden frame rough beneath his fingers. A sense of realism, most definitely.

He placed it back on the hook, just like how it'd been before. He knew he'd go back to glancing it at as we walked past because that's what it was. A lighthouse on a clifftop. Exactly right.

#

She spent her night staring out of her window. Finally finishing _Silas Marner_ out on the beach, the final words, _"O father," said Eppie, "what a pretty home ours is! I think nobody could be happier than we are,"_ Rose had placed the book back on her side table, exchanging it with _To the Lighthouse_. While _Celebrity Masterchef_ had run on the telly after dinner, _To the Lighthouse_ had begun: _"Yes, of course, if it's fine tomorrow," said Mrs. Ramsay. "But you'll have to be up with the lark," she added._

 _To her son these words conveyed an extraordinary joy, as if it were settled, the expedition were bound to take place, and the wonder to which he had looked forward, for years and years it seemed, was, after a night's darkness and a day's sail, within touch. Since he belonged, even at the age of six, to that great clan which cannot keep this feeling separate from that, but must let future prospects, with their joys and sorrows, cloud what is actually at hand, since to such people even in earliest childhood…._

Rose had stopped reading when she saw that sentence go on for another three lines. Just having read _Silas Marner_ , the familiar long paragraphs of the new book had made her eyes cross, so she had gone back upstairs to switch with _Life of Pi_ (hopefully a safe, easy read). But, when she had put back the book by Virginia Woolf to switch, her eyes had wondered off to her wide window filled with the black of night. She had departed from the side table empty handed, moving to stand in front of window.

Because of lights in her room, she could see herself in the window, making it look like she and her bedroom were inside of the darkness. Looking past the trick of the light, the ocean could be seen in the distance, the waves slow and languid but still glittering from the light of the waxing gibbous.

She missed him. Everything was still so fresh her mind, she could _see_ him. Unlike the Doctor, who was always so hazy and dreamt up in her mind, Alec was _there_. Everything about him in Rose's memory was recent and accurate and _real_. The Doctor was a figure in the distance, but _he_ was right in front of her.

It was very hard to feel sad about missing him, though. Because, she was _missing him_. She cared enough to miss him. After years and years of only caring about one person, she cared about _him_. She missed him because she loved him. When she slept in her bed that night, she imagined him next to her because she loved him. When she woke in the morning, excited at the prospects of seeing him, it was because she loved him. And when she heard her mobile ring all the way upstairs during _The Jeremy Kyle Show_ , her heart leapt out of her chest because she loved him.

#

He wanted her in his bed. He wanted his fingers in her hair. He wanted his lips all over her skin. He wanted to be around her. He wanted to be in her. He wanted to be everything for her. That was the reason why, despite having a long work day the day before (and another potential long day presently), he rang Rose after much nervous forethought from inside of his office and invited her to _his_ house. Just the two of them for dinner, in his quiet chalet.

Alec didn't know if he really expected to get 'lucky,' nor did he know if he actually cared. He did know as much that he wanted her to be with him that night. Maybe not like _that_ —maybe not sexually—but a nice meal and conversation. Finish the round of twenty questions they were on (they only had five questions left, by his count). He'd ask her what sort of mates she had in London; he didn't know enough about her home in London. He knew she claimed London wasn't her home, but she had lived there for her entire life. He wanted to know what she'd be leaving behind to be with him. Maybe, if it was best for her, he could convince her to stay in London. Maybe…he could go to London too. Wouldn't be so bad, he supposed. Rose would be there, he'd have an actual excuse not to purchase a car, the cases for detectives there would be a whole lot better than the ones in Broadchurch, for sure.

If he were serious about moving to bloody London for a woman he'd have to quit his job. He'd have to sell the chalet. He'd have to say goodbye to Ellie. He'd…was that really it? Those three things? That's what's holding him back from moving, nevermind Rose? Was that what was keeping him in Broadchurch? A bloody job, a chalet, and a mate? That was pathetic. Maybe Rose didn't have that much in London either. From what he could see, without her telling him anymore than she already had, all she had in London was her family, consisting of Mr. and Mrs. Tyler, and Tony. He and she really weren't that different. And Rose was right, they could go anywhere. Anywhere in the whole world. They could fucking go to India. Or Brazil. Or Russia. _Anywhere_.

He'd have to tell her that that was what he wanted. He wanted to leave. He wanted to see Broadchurch in the distance with Rose in his hand. Go back to London if she wanted, he didn't care either way. As long as he had Rose, because she was the focal point. Everything around them was changeable, undefinable. But she…she was _definite_. She had to be there for everything else to lock in. Again, it was like she said. Their relationship was a constant. As long as they were together, everything else would make sense. Everything would be okay.

The world feels completely different when you know it's on your side.

#

The first thing either of them could say when the door between them opened and Rose's arms were wrapped around his torso was: "I missed you."

Alec buried his head in her shoulder and held her as she did the same.

When they came apart just a few inches so they could look one another in the eye, he leaned his head down and kissed her on the cheek. "I'm sorry about last night," he apologised, moving his forehead to rest on hers.

"Did you solve it?" she sighed.

"No, but I have to go in tomorrow."

"Then, what you're saying is that I need to make tonight worth it?" she said, amused.

The tone of her voice shot down through him. That was enough to get him off, right then and there. "No," he felt like he had clarify. "I didn't invite you here just for _that_. I wanted us to be alone so I'd have no distractions."

"Yeah?"

"Of course. But," he added on, "if you'd like to, that's a completely different story."

Rose giggled at him, taking her forehead off of his. "I'm sure it is."

When Alec led her inside, she immediately guessed by the aroma: "Hmmm, Italian?"

"Take-away, sorry," he said.

"No, its fine," she smiled. "As long as you don't care about garlic breath," she added with a tease.

He inwardly groaned. He should have thought of that.

Rose noticed that he became tense in the shoulders, presumably from stress of her joke. "Oh," she grabbed onto his arm and brought him to face her, "you worry too much, _Inspector_."

"You know, I really honestly don't like that nickname," his mouth quirked into a small smile.

She ran her hands up his arms to link behind his neck. "You like when I say your name instead?"

"Rose," he murmured in an almost warning tone.

"That's _my_ name," she giggled. " _Alec_ is yours."

"Rose," he repeated, "I'd…I'd very much like to make it through dinner without…" Alec's voice faded.

"Without what?" she prodded, completely aware of what was going through his mind.

He made a loud sigh.

"Alright, alright. I get it, I'm turning you on. But may I remind you that it goes both ways? And I really like this suit," she fingered with label of his suit jacket and looked up at him through her eyelashes.

The two paused, just like that, Rose with her suggestive gaze and Alec with the lump in his throat. He could _hear_ how fast his heart was beating and see Rose's chest slowly rise and fall, her breasts going along with it. He coughed slightly, trying to kill the sexual tension that had suddenly (or not so suddenly) hung over them. "Dinner then?" he managed.

Rose grinned.


	16. Chapter 15: Cliff

_Listen to: "Lux Aurumque" by UNLV Wind Orchestra or "Love Reign O'er Me" by William Close and the Earth Harp Collective_

* * *

 ** _Chapter 15: Cliff_**

* * *

The couple ate dinner in Alec's kitchen in mostly silence, filled only with sporadic mentions of work or activities and many, many lingering glances.

"You were very quiet," he said while cleaning up the table.

Rose, hovering near him, replied: "I was watching you."

He paused to look back at her.

"I took the time to really look at you," she continued.

"…And what did you see?"

She blushed, biting her lip. "I see Alec."

A bit disappointed with her simple answer, he turned back around to continue what he had been doing before.

"I see someone I want to spend the rest of my life with. I see my soulmate. I see _Alec_. It all means the same thing, now."

Alec's eyes slowly blinked and he let out a gentle sigh. There it was. What he had hoped to hear. But, when she said it, it sounded so sad. Like almost, in a way, she didn't expect to hear it back from him.

"Do you…do you feel the same?" She asked, he having just expected to hear the question. "I know you love me, but, does love mean the same to you?"

He left the glasses he had been gripping on the counter to turn his body to face hers. "I may not be the best at saying it, but, aye…I promise."

Rose took the few steps towards him to close the space between them. She placed her hands on either side of his head and brought his eyes to look at hers. "You hardly ever look," she mused, dropping her hands.

"I'm afraid to sometimes," he breathed.

"Why?"

"Because…sometimes I don't want to know what you're thinking."

"Nowadays," Rose smirked, "it would seem I'm always thinking about you."

Alec shook his head. "How can you open yourself to me so easily?"

"Because I _know_ you. Regardless of how long we've been physically together, I've known you for my whole life. You're only having trouble because you…because you think that you don't deserve me. And I'm telling you now that I'm exactly what you deserve."

He couldn't help but kiss her after that—capturing her lips with his own, cradling her head in his hands.

Immediately wanting to speed things up, Rose began to work on loosening his tie.

When he felt his tie begin to slip off his neck and the tip of her tongue prod entrance, he broke apart from her in a hurry, his hands snapping to catch hers just as his tie fell away in her hand.

Confused, Rose's eyebrows knitted together. "What?" she breathed.

"I had it all planned out," he replied, his hands still in hers. He had wanted to sit down with Rose and talk to her for hours before ever even touching her. Go so very slowly. Spend time with every little detail. But now that it was happening, everything was going at once, and if everything happened all at once…he'd never remember every second of it like he should.

Her eyebrows softened as the sides of her mouth quirked up. "And let me guess, this isn't going to _plan_?" She continued with: "Alec, you've gotten loosen up. It's just like before with the food. _You worry too much_."

She stretched up and pecked a kiss on his lips. " _I want you_ ," she hummed.

"Are you sure?" he asked, warily.

Her eyes crunched up as she laughed. "Yes, I'm sure. I'm not sending mixed signals am I?"

He winced. "No, your signals are very clear, just…"

"Let me in. _Tell me what you're thinking_ ," she pressed her body even closer against his.

"…I'm not very secure with myself," he murmured.

Rose paused, observing the way his eyes darted off to the side. She had to be completely honest in that moment. "…I haven't been with anyone in ten years. You think you're insecure? I feel like I'm a beginner all over again, almost.

"If you're not ready, that's one thing. But I know that you are. You're just thinking too much. And _worrying_ ," she lightly teased him with a smile.

"But I _always_ worry," he finally managed to grin.

"Which is alright for _Inspector_ Alec to do, but right now you're just _Alec_ Alec. And I know that _nothing_ scares _Alec_ Alec away. Not even a woman who hasn't had sex in ten years," she chuckled at herself.

"That _is_ a long time," he joked.

"At least that stops tonight, right?"

Alec stared at her, his breathing becoming slowed, but his heartbeat doing the complete opposite. Her eyes were wide and kind, and she had a faint trace of a smile on her lips. Her hand was warm in his, and her hair tumbled around her face. Without a word, he began to guide her towards his bedroom.

A shy smile spread across her face when she realised where he was leading them both.

His small bedroom was dark, but the lights from the kitchen and parlour casted dim lighting on the open spaces.

The two stopped once the backs of Alec's knees hit the edge of his bed.

It was very awkward the way the couple looked at each other for the first few moments, unsure of how to continue. They both knew what was supposed to happen, but how to initiate it was the problem.

Eventually realising that she must make the first move, Rose slipped her hand out from under Alec's hands, and then dropped the tie onto the floor. Her hands moved to the lapels of jacket, looking up to his eyes briefly she began remove the jacket from him. The jacket slipped off his shoulders and he aided her by pulling it down from his arms, dropping it afterwards onto the floor. Her hands then returned back to his chest, sliding up and down the material of his oxford.

Alec was glad that it wasn't going as fast as he earlier anticipated it would from the behaviour of Rose, because he wanted it to last for forever. They'd never gotten this far before, always staying fully clothed, and even with only his jacket off he was feeling very…eager. He wanted to see what she looked like underneath all of her clothes. She'd probably be so smooth and warm, hopefully very responsive to even the slightest of his touches on her skin.

He _needed_ her. He needed her right then and there. She had all of her clothes on, and that definitely wasn't okay. He needed to see _every bit of her_. To feel…to taste. Their lips were apart…he needed them to be latched together. To breathe every breath with her.

His lips fell on top of hers then, pressing firmly repeatedly with sighs and gasps for air.

Rose curved her body against his and groaned; she began unbuttoning his oxford in a rush.

His tongue journeyed into her mouth, quickly finding hers. His hands went down to the bottom of her vest and grabbed hold of the hem, only to pause, as if awaiting her okay. She didn't stop him, continuing unbuttoning, so he took that as permission to tug her vest up her body.

Once the vest reached past her arms she halted her work on Alec's clothes to raise her arms and help him carry the vest off of her torso, tossing it haphazardly to the side.

He couldn't help but peel his lips off of hers so he could give a good look at her now exposed bra, hands reaching out on instinct to run over the black, satin material. His mouth slackened and his breathing slowed as his fingers roamed over the material, down to her torso, and up again to the bra.

Almost smugly, Rose purred: "I wore this for you."

His blood burned and all he could concentrate on was getting them both undressed before he lost all control. Eyes cutting up to look at her face, he took his hands away from her to hurriedly try and finish the buttons on his oxford, untucking it with a newfound flourish.

Her hands shot out to prevent him from finishing. "No, that's my job, hm?" She shooed his hands away and finished the last few buttons while Alec looked down at her in awe.

When the last button came free, she stood up straight and slowly parted the fabric. Her hand went to the skin of his chest, lying flat across his heart. Her other hand went just above that to trace the scar she could make out in the dim, warm lighting.

"Pacemaker," he explained in a soft voice.

Her eyes briefly met his as she removed her hands. He was unsure what she was going to next as she stared up at him. Then, her arms wrapped around his upper torso and her head rested on the place on his chest where her hands just were. Any urgency and any eagerness went out the window when he felt the coldness of her ear pressing up against his skin and realised that she was listening to his heartbeat.

His eyes began to sting and his throat closed as he lost any interest of her chest smashed against his in favour of the sentiment she was creating between the two of them.

"It sounds just like mine," Rose mused, her voice sounding faintly muffled.

Alec let out an amused grin. "Aye, I'd hope it would," he teased.

She pulled her head away from his chest, sliding her arms up to his neck, and looked him in the eye. "Do you want to hear what yours sounds like?"

What she had just done and what she was asking him to do was far more intimate than sex. Listening to each other's heartbeat was something he'd never done with Tess, and when he trailed kisses from Rose's temple all the way down her neck and then crouched down to put his head against her heart, Rose's hands cradling his head, he knew why. He had waited his whole life to hear the thud of _her_ heartbeat. To feel _her_ chest rise and fall. To hear _her_ say "That's exactly what it sounds like" from such a vulnerable position.

He slowly stood, making her hands dropping away. "…Let me make love to you."

She nodded and whispered: "Okay."

Alec closed the space between them and gave Rose a chaste kiss before slipping his oxford off his shoulders while she flopped off her trainers and plucked her socks from her feet.

"Sit," she pointed at him and then towards the bed.

He cocked an eyebrow and followed directions anyways, now bare from the waist up.

Standing in front of him, she kept her eyes locked on his as she reached behind her and unhooked her bra, letting it fall loose.

Rose grinned when she noticed his eyes flicker down to her chest just before she grabbed the straps of her bra and carried them off her body, bringing the entirety of the bra with them.

She was pure dead brilliant, he thought, standing there in front of him without a bra on, seemingly unabashed. She was so beautiful, she had to know. She had to know that she had a tremendous effect over him, rendering him speechless and in awe.

Stepping over the bra now on the floor, she climbed on top of him, effectively straddling him and bringing him face to face with her breasts.

He wanted to start on her chest, he wanted to touch and taste and _remember_. But, he wanted to make it right. In the right order, in the right way. So, he tilted his chin up, looking her squarely in the eye. "You're everything I'm ever gonna want." And he meant it. How could he want anything else? No promotion, no good fortune, no accomplishment of his could ever outshine his want, no, _need_ for her. It was this huge indescribable _thing_ with Rose Tyler that could only be classified as eternal love. The sort of love you hear across the universe and back. The kind of love that makes you see stars in the blank sky. Sex was nice, yes, but being in love with Rose Tyler? He'd rather live a lifetime without having sex ever again if it meant he could just _speak_ to Rose. That was the reason why, even with her breasts at his eye level, he sought out her eyes and focused on expressing to her how much she meant to him. How much she'd _always_ mean to him.

Her face slackened as she brought her hands up to his face, one hand cupping a side while the other while the other roaming—brushing across his beard, down to his lips, and back up to stroke his brow. "You're such a good man," she whispered, almost in a sad voice.

"You deserve a good man."

"I deserve _you_."

"I promise I'll always be a good man for you," murmured Alec.

Rose smiled before leaning in to kiss him, her head tilting to better the angle and her hands falling to her sides. His mouth was warm and responsive to hers, but she wanted him to _touch_ her all over. She wanted to be lying completely naked underneath him while his hands roamed all over her body. So, when his lips eventually began to wonder away from hers, moving to her jaw, her eyes fluttered shut at what she anticipated from him: all the attention she wanted.

He took his time to move from her mouth down to her chest, stopping briefly at her neck before continuing downward. Just before he reached her breasts, however, he pulled back to replace his mouth with hands.

At the feeling of the pads of his fingers along her chest she barely suppressed a moan, resting her head against the nook of his neck. And when his hands finally cupped her breasts and his thumbs settled on her hardened nipples she pressed her lips against his neck in a release of all of her pent up expectation being so far less than reality. She now realised why he'd wanted to take so much time and care; he _knew_ what he was doing, especially when she felt his mouth latch on and a shiver went through her. Rose ground her hips into his instinctively, finding he was already hard underneath her, her bottom lip caught in between her teeth. Alec moved to the other and the fingers on one of her hands tangled themselves in his hair. Yes, of course she was enjoying the moment, but she wanted _more_ —she wanted to have her mouth on _him_. She tugged slightly on his hair, gesturing for him to pull back.

"Hm?" he asked, his fingers still running over her chest.

She rested her forehead on his and whispered: "Let me do this."

He squinted his eyes at her at first, confused, until she crawled downwards making his hands drop, letting her knees rest on the floor. "Rose, you don't have to."

"He says half-heartedly," Rose quipped from in between his legs before beginning to undo his belt, the metal on the buckle clinking.

"Are you sure?" he said.

The zipping sound of his zip was heard. "Yes." Her fingers traced the elastic of his pants.

Alec's hands clutched the sheets on the bed as her hand dipped down into his pants and made contact. The elastic slid down and then he was in her mouth, her tongue churning and her hand rubbing. His eyes clenched shut and he fought every urge to fist his hands in her hair. "Bloody— _fuck_ ," he shakily breathed. When he felt himself tapping the back of her throat, he felt his time growing very, desperately short. " _Rose_." The combination of her mouth, and her throat, and her hand…"I—" he only managed to make out before his time came and her mouth lingered.

While her mouth parted and she slowly stood from the floor, he attempted to catch his breath and loosen his vice grip on the bedsheets. "Thank you," he brushed some of her hair out of her eyes once she had straddled him again.

She hummed and brought her lips down to his, pushing her tongue inside of his mouth.

While she attended to his mouth, he began to slip off his shoes so he could then flip them over on the bed, making Rose grin against his lips. "Here, let me scoot up so your legs aren't dangling," she laughed before moving her body forwards up the bed after he let go of her back and head.

He tucked himself back into his pants before crawling after her so he could bring his lips back down to hers.

Her hands flitted up and down his torso before settling on his lower back. She arched her body up to press her chest against his.

Alec tore his lips apart from hers, moving them speedily down her jaw, neck, and torso. Just before he reached her shorts, he paused to look up at Rose, whose head was tilted backwards against the bed. She brought up one of her hands and ran her fingers through his hair, him taking that as an affirmative answer to his unasked question. So, he proceeded to unbutton and unzip her shorts, tugging them far enough down her legs so she could shake them off herself.

Skipping the expanse of skin he'd focus on later, he settled his mouth on her thigh, kissing up and down it while feeling her fingers in his hair. When he felt his hair being tugged by Rose, he smirked against her thigh. "Stop teasing," he heard her sigh.

After one final kiss on her leg, he replied with a chuckle: "I'd _never_."

"Hm, I'm _sure_ ," she joked.

He brought his face up to her black knickers, Rose feeling his steady jets of breath. An embarrassing, drawn out whine came from the back of her throat when she felt his fingers stroking the material. "Oh, god," she breathed. Her hips arched up towards him.

Painfully slow, he began to pull her knickers down her body, copying the motion they went through earlier with her shorts.

" _Alec_ ," she besought after maneuvering the garment off.

He slid a finger inside to please her, inciting a low groan. Bringing his head down, he kissed her just above his finger.

Rose bucked her hips in response and covered her eyes with her free hand, overstimulated, as his tongue dipped into her, moving along with his finger. " _Fuck_ ," she said through gritted teeth. Her grip on his hair tightened reflexively as she saw the edge of her plateau grow nearer and nearer.

Just before she fell off, he pulled away with full control of his motives, making a low whimper escape her lips. "I didn't want to finish before you did," he explained in a hushed voice, his breath tickling her skin.

Rose would've laughed and joked with him about his teenage stamina, if she wasn't so horribly, horribly in _need_ of him. "Alec, you bloody bastard," she groaned, tugging on his hair in an attempt to bring his head back downward.

He chuckled lowly. "Can you pause for a tick?"

"Why?" she whined again.

"I need to get a condom, and take off the rest of my clothes," he laughed. "I still have my socks and trousers on."

"Hurry then, I _need_ you."

His stomach tightened as a shiver went through his body. Alec rose from the bed (not without a lingering stare at Rose's nude form) and with a new fervour, began to undress down from his trousers, pants, and socks.

Naked, he opened the drawer next to his bed and began rummaging through various papers and junk in attempt to find a nonexistent box of condoms.

"Shorts," he heard from beside him.

Rose was sitting upright on the bed, looking at him with a playful smirk.

"Hm?" he asked.

"My shorts. Back pocket," her eyes roamed up and down his body. "My mum tossed me one when I was leaving. Thought you'd need it."

If he wasn't so terribly keen he might've taken offence to Jackie assuming that it'd been awhile, even though it kind of was.

Just a little, nay, very much shy and uncomfortable with walking around the bed while _exposed_ to where her shorts lay on the floor, he found himself unable to look towards her until after he'd retrieved it and turned back towards her.

"You're very handsome, you know," she said as if she could read his mind.

He silently laughed and shook his head while waving the condom at her.

"No, I mean it," Rose affirmed. "I'm very lucky to have someone as deliciously sexy as you."

"I—" he began, stunned. His voice cut off when he saw the beckoning of her finger and couldn't help but follow her command, crawling across the bed to hover in front of her.

"I think you're sexy," she repeated, laying back to let Alec position himself above her. "I think you're magnificent," she said before reaching up to kiss him, sweetly. "I think you're perfect," her voice tapered to a whisper as she reached to take the package out of his hand. She kissed him again before continuing with, thoughtfully: "I think that he'd be proud of me. Finding you." She ripped open the foil, her eyes never leaving his. "Believing in you instead of him." Rose flicked the wrapper away with one hand, while the other reached down to place the condom on him, making Alec groan. "Let me worship you" were her final words before he slowly sunk into her.

He gritted his teeth while he attempted to pause and give Rose time, and attempted to not do what his body really wanted him to do: go as fast and choppy as he could until he finished early and didn't get to spend as much time inside of her as he terribly wanted. He focused on her face, how her eyes were shut, her head was lolled, and her bottom lip was caught between her teeth. She didn't worship him, he worshipped _her_. How could he not? She was his theme song, his sense of realism. No longer in a deaf, pessimistic world, he heard her and he saw her. And she saw him too, he knew. Not in passing, not in a glimpse, but in a contemplation. In that moment in a song just before inevitable chorus, when you can see the future and the past all in that one second of time, that's how she saw him, he knew, because that's just how he saw her.

Rose's eyes opened, so he slowly pulled out and pushed back in, making her yank his head down to hers so she could snog him senselessly. Her soft moans against his mouth egged him on, quickening his pace within her.

It had been so long for her, and she knew why. She had been waiting for someone like him. Someone who would bring their hand downwards and help her along as she squirmed. Someone who would gasp her name in worship. Someone who would tell her how much they loved her after her completion, not requiring she say it back because they knew she meant it. And she did. She loved him. Imperfections and all. Because, at the end of the day, this was all she wanted. To see the way he gritted his teeth when he came to the end of his own plateau. To feel him refuse to move from inside of her, because she knew he'd never want to. She'd never want to, either. When they parted, it'd be the end of their first time. She hated endings. With endings came a page in her journal, and she never wanted a page entitled 'Alec Hardy'. She hoped she'd never need one.

"I love you in a way I never thought possible," he whispered into her ear.

She traced a heart around his scar in response.


	17. Chapter 16: Cape

**_Chapter 16: Cape_**

 _Listen to: "Polly" by Gem Club or "Warm Shadow—Radio Edit" by Fink_

Ending it—their first time—was as equally hard for Alec as it was for Rose. Pulling out, he immediately felt the loss and the chill in the air, and he wanted more than anything else to retreat back and refuse to ever part. Eventually though, he had to gather and fetch Rose and him something to sleep in after she reminded him kindly that he had work in the morning.

After putting on the tee and boxers he gave her, she curled up to his side underneath the blankets, resting her head against his bare chest. "We're gonna have to do that again, you know," she said.

Alec grinned at the prospect of a repeat. "I was that good, hm?"

"You were, but then again my opinion means nothing. That was my first time in ten years," she reminded him.

"Oh, your opinion means everything to me."

Rose leaned upwards and pressed a kiss against his mouth. "We have four rounds left," she settled her back on his chest.

"Right, we do. That would make it my turn, aye?" He felt her head nod slightly against him. "Oh, you kinda put me on the spot. My brain's all in a fuzz."

"I wonder why," she giggled.

"Are you thinking very clearly right now, Ms. Rose Tyler?"

"Actually, I've never felt better," she teased.

"Oh, really? Maybe I didn't do it right the first time." He moved Rose off of him before sliding down her form.

When his hands slid underneath her shirt, she gasped, saying: "Alec! You have to get up early!"

"It's worth the loss of sleep," he bid just before brushing his lips against her hip.

#

Rose lined up her hand with his, her face still heated from him bringing her to another climax with his tongue. "You remember that scene in _Tarzan_ when they did this?" she referred to their hands.

Looking at the very dim outline of their hands, he mhmed lazily.

"I always thought that was so romantic."

His lips against her temple, he murmured: "Is that where you got the heartbeat move?"

"Perhaps," she giggled, caught. She intertwined their fingers before resting their hands on his chest.

"I've thought of my question," he suddenly said.

"Okay."

He was almost afraid to ask it, uncertain of how she'd respond. "…Why were you in the hospital, those years back?" If he could have seen more than outlines, he'd bet that her face had fallen at the question, making him feel incredibly awful for asking it.

Rose couldn't help but wince at his question. "I had, uhm…" she attempted to search for the right phrasing, "I had an issue with sleeping pills."

Finding himself unable to respond, he brought their entwined hands up to his mouth so he could kiss the back of her hand.

"You really know how to somber a mood, hm?" she joked forcibly.

Alec murmured: "That was the final mystery."

"Well, what about your mystery?"

"What mystery?"

"Why you've sentenced yourself to living here as some sort of punishment."

"I haven't _sentenced_ myself here."

"What are you punishing yourself for?" she ignored him. "You've never told me why you came here in the first place."

"Sandbrook. That's why I came here."

"Because of what happened with your wife?"

"No," he shook his head. "There was a case there that I couldn't solve. That I didn't solve until this past year. That's why I came here. I needed a place to…think.

"Have you never punished yourself for something?" he continued on. "Something that could be fixed, if only you tried just a bit harder? Something that weighed you down and refused to let you move on?"

He supposed he should have expected her answer to regard the Doctor. He had set up the question to require that, almost, in a cruel twist. Still though, his heart twinged with a shot of an aching feeling as she said: "I spent _three years_ punishing myself for him. Trying and trying and trying to get back. To see him again, just long enough to have _closure_. It almost killed me. And then, suddenly, it didn't. Almost, but didn't. And that was enough. _Almost_. I almost spent the rest of my life with him. But I didn't. And that was enough. I almost made it back to him. But I didn't. And that was enough."

"Rose," he breathed, "I'm sorry I didn't mean to—" Her head quickly rose from his chest, making his voice falter.

"Do you want me to be happy?"

Her head was turned towards his direction, but he couldn't see how her face looked. What her lips were doing, what her eyes were saying. "Of course I do," Alec assured her, unsure of what she was about to say next.

"Then don't let me punish myself ever again. Promise. I'll do the same."

"I promise, aye."

Satisfied, she gently tugged on his hand, guiding him to press up against her back. "Mysteries solved, and we still have three question left," her heard her voice smile.

"How about we save them for tomorrow night?" he whispered in her ear.

A very content "Okay" was her last word.

#

When his alarm sounded he wanted to rip the flex out and bunk off after noticing Rose stir in front of him. She was still there. That made it all real. What happened between them, his relationship with her, it was all his to have. Alec and Rose, domestic couple with an alarm and a night of sex, was an official thing. It had been a night of firsts, their first time, their first morning…he could only look forward to them all, eventually having their first row, moving in, getting married, _having children_ …escalating quickly, yes, but he knew that it all would happen for them, eventually. He could see it every time he looked at her, and when he thought back to that very first second he saw her face, he knew it then too. She had one of those faces that screamed 'you will know me better than anyone'. And it was true. He knew her, inside and out, better than any living being on the face of the planet, and he wanted to spend of the rest of his life looking at her face and saying how much he would sacrifice for her.

Just looking at her then, with the alarm blaring and her hand coming up to wipe at her eyes, he knew he would have to treasure her and never let her go because she was it for him. His one soulmate in the entire universe. Across all of those parallel worlds and galaxies and whatnot, she was for _him_. He beat the legendary Doctor in the race for Rose, and to let himself ever stray, to let _her_ stray… _no_. That'd never happen for as long as he lived.

"Alec, turn it off," her voice came out strained with sleep. After turning it off, she said to him: "I told you you'd be tired."

He chuckled under his breath, slowly sitting up. "I feel great."

"Mhm," Rose replied while sounding muffled from her face turned in the pillow.

"Am I going to your place tonight?" He ran his fingers through her splayed hair.

"If you want to sleep with me again, it has to be yours."

He wanted to ask 'Why don't you just move in? And then marry me? And stay here for forever?', but a timid "Oh, I don't need to have that every night, Rose" was all that came out.

"Well," she turned her head to finally look up at him, "maybe I do."

Alec gave her a disbelieving laugh. "Yeah?"

" _Ten years_. I've paid my dues, believe me," she smirked.

"Then," he fingered with the hem of her shirt, "maybe I have a bit of time before I need to get ready."

"Alec," she giggled, placing her hands on his shoulders as he littered her face with kisses. "Go get ready. I'm sore anyways."

"Really?" he leaned back from her face to give her a mischievous smile. "I was that good?"

" _Ten years_. Getting full of it, you are."

"Still good for a lad with a pacemaker, I think, ten years or not," Alec quipped after rising from the bed.

Rose rolled her eyes, teasingly. "Just go take your shower while I change."

"How about you come and shower with me, then change?"

"Alec! I'm not gonna have sex with you this early!"

"But you know you'll be begging tonight," he said charmingly.

"Next time I'll tell you you're awful afterwards so you won't end up like this," she threatened.

"Then you'll be lying."

She smiled. "How do you know I wasn't lying before?"

"Ouch," he scrunched up his nose, "you're clever."

"Oh but another reason to love me more."

"I already knew how clever you were, though," his tone became soft and tender.

She crawled across the bed over to where he stood, she sitting up on her knees.

He leaned in and gave her a slow kiss, afterwards wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her neck.

#

After changing, she sat went into the other room to gather her things, rummaging through her purse until she found her mobile. Its ringer had been off, so she had missed three calls, two texts, and a voicemail, all from her mum and dad in the past hour (which made her heart skip a beat or two in worry).

"Dad? Did you need something? I'm still at Alec's. I'm fine," Rose hurriedly reassured once her father answered after the first few rings.

"Rose that doesn't matter, its Torchwood. There's been a rash of shop-window mannequins in West End having 'supernatural' behaviour. Our tech blokes got their hands on one and its alien energised material."

"Autons," she numbly responded. No, this couldn't be happening now. She was normal, she had a boyfriend, she had stability, she was _alive_. No risks, no mess. And now, she knew what he was going to say. They had to go back. She had to save the world because she was the only person in their universe who knew what one was. "They're Autons, and it's the Nestene Consciousness. My Doctor and I fought it in my London when I first met him."

"Your mother told me you knew what it might be. It's all over the news! They're all awake! Hundreds dead already in London! Rose, the helicopter leaves in an hour, you're gonna get your first case since dismissal!" He said it all in almost an excited tone, like she should have been happy that it had happened so she could gain her voice back in Torchwood again.

"Wait, are all of us going? Mum and Tony too?"

"Yeah, they'll go back to Bromley, but we'll head to the site and see what we can do. Do you know how to defeat it?"

"Well yeah I think I might, but Alec…dad, I can't…he—" She knew she was being selfish, but she didn't bloody care. It was Alec. _Alec_! How could she look him in the eye and tell him he couldn't come ('cause she knew he'd ask, 'cause it's _Alec_ )?

"Rose," he sighed heavily over the line, seemingly distractedly too, "he has a job. You have a job. Sometimes life isn't fair, you know? But you'll see him after this all blows over."

"But what if I don't?" she snapped. "Or what if I do, and he's moved on?"

"Moved on in a day? Rose, you're being ridiculous."

"The Doctor almost moved on with someone within _five minutes_!"

"You come or you don't. Stay, I'm not going to force you to come. But know that the Rose I know would. And she'd never be afraid of dying."

"I wasn't afraid of dying before because I knew I had nothing to live for." A stray tear fell down her cheek. "He took care of me, and now I'm terrified of leaving."

"Then tell him you'll see him later," she heard from behind her.

She turned away from the window to see Alec in the doorway, his trousers and unbuttoned oxford on, with the most pained, terribly sad expression on his face.

"Rose? Rose, can you hear me?" she ignored from the other line, letting her arm go to her side.

"Aliens, right?" He paused. "You need to go," Alec nodded.

"No, I belong here with _you_. I don't owe them anything."

"Are people dying?"

She silently nodded.

"I've always wanted to save people before they die," he weakly laughed. "I always get stuck with the aftermath, but _you_ , you get to prevent people like me from coming."

"They've done without me for five years, I don't see why they need me now," she shook her head.

"Because you're clever," he replied simply.

"But _now_. When things've just gotten good…and now I have _you_." Her tears continued to well up in her eyes.

Now in front of her, Alec said: "This isn't a goodbye. I don't what kind of a man the Doctor was, but if he was truly in love with you, like I so very much am, he wouldn't have ever let you go willingly, nor would he have ever moved on in five minutes. I could never move on from you. Who would come next? There's no one more fitted for me than you in all of the parallel universes."

Rose's free hand slid up his torso to his chest, remembering how long each and every rise and fall was. "You took care of me."

"The way I see it," he began, taking her hand with the mobile in his, "you took care of _me_." He brought up her hand to his ear, saying into the phone she was still holding: "Pete, are you still on the line?"

"Yes, where's Rose? This is a very urgent matter, I hope you understand," she could hear Pete say through the speaker.

"Rose'll be there, ready to go." His eyes flicked to meet hers.

"Good, I'm glad. Thank you," her father responded.

Without a single word more, Alec ended the call and tossed the mobile onto the sofa behind her.

Her lips met his in a frenzy, she pressing her body desperately against his and shoving her tongue in his mouth, tasting the toothpaste still running along his teeth. She took one of his hands in hers, bringing it up to rest over her heart.

She would have gone anyways, had Alec not made the decision for her. And that was the saddest part of all. She didn't refuse because she didn't want to go, she had refused because she was in disbelief. The aliens always, _always_ seem to get in her bloody way. She scorned herself for not seeing it sooner. If this was as close as she'd ever get to him again...she'd have to die. There was no state of in between anymore. If she was alive, she was with Alec. Therefore, finishing the puzzle, if she was without Alec, she was dead.

When he rested his other hand on her hand that was resting alone on his chest, a shot of tightening pain enveloped her heart.

#

 _This isn't a goodbye._ Then what was it then? Alec didn't care if he saw her tomorrow, alive and well. The fact of the matter was that she was going off to fight aliens, while he sat in his office looking over notes and notes of counterfeit money. The telly in the corner showed the same reels over and over again of the 'Mannequin Invasion' as they were calling it, with shop-window mannequins breaking out of the glass and wreaking havoc among shop-goers. And he couldn't stop himself from watching it. He'd look at a note, then up at the telly, then back down, then back up. Look at the clock every once and awhile, maybe take a sip of his coffee only to realise he wasn't hungry.

It was like in those films, when at the end to create conflict, one of the main characters leaves the other, only to have the one left behind chase them down in an airport or a rail station. Except, they weren't going off to fight aliens, they were off to Paris or New York. That's where the cliché ended, because there weren't any _alien_ clichés. At the end, the humans won, of course, but then what? There of course were casualties. And the main character was allowed to die, as seen in _I Am Legend_. Rose was a main character, was she…could she…? The bloody mannequins were fucking shooting up the streets, and where would _she_ be? Not locked away in some office like he always was, no. She'd be somewhere close. Somewhere close enough to end up like the casualties on the streets, because she was the heroine of the story. Of their story… _their_ story. If it were theirs, then that would make him a hero.

 _"_ _You're a good man, Alec. A hero for me."_

The heroes were always close. Always fighting, not fucking counting counterfeit notes.

One more look at the telly, seeing the reporter listing the count of the known dead, he had decided his fate. He slid one of the evidence bags away from him on desk in a fury just as Ellie (who else would it be?) knocked on his door.

"Come in!" he called as he hopped up from his desk, looking back at the clock. 9.56.

"Hardy, do you have those bags?"

He gestured down to the bags sitting near the edge of his desk. "Here, take them all."

"Okay…thanks," she replied, wary of his attitude, as she walked over to pick them off his desk. Hearing the sound of the telly, she turned her head to glimpse at it. "Isn't that just horrible? It always seems to be London, doesn't it?"

"That's not a coincidence, I don't think," Alec shook his head, walking around from his desk. He picked up the plaque the read his name and position and plunked it into the dustbin nearby.

"Oi! What are you doing with that?" Ellie noticed.

"I think I'm about to quit," he nodded, so sure of himself.

"I'm sorry, what?" she placed the bags back down on his desk.

"Yeah, I quitting. Congratulations, you're about to get the promotion you always wanted!" he grinned, walking back around the desk to rummage through his drawers.

"You can't quit! We're in the middle of the 'Quid Case!' Have you gone completely mad?!"

"Actually, I need to borrow your car, or have you drive me somewhere. Whichever works for you, really," he ignored her while still pulling out pens and notepads.

"Not that I'm complaining that you're giving me your job, but you have to send in a formal resignation! Jenkinson is gonna lose her mind!"

"There's not time for that, don't you see?!" he stuck out his arm towards the telly. "Rose is going there!"

"Ohmygod, Hardy, this is about Rose?" her voice softened. "Did she leave you?"

His back straightened and he paused his efforts on his desk. "I told her to."

"Well, she was a bit young for you, don't think?"

He shot her a glare. "Do you want this job or not? Shouldn't you be saying things opposite of that?"

"Look, like or not," she pointed her finger at him. 'I've sorta become your moral conscience. Did you really expect Rose to stay with you _here_ when she's from London?"

"We didn't expect to stay here, no. But things got complicated and rushed, and, now I'm almost out of time. I have to get there before the helicopter takes off, Ellie. If I don't, then I'll have to sit here and wait for her to maybe come back to me."

" _We_? You planned on leaving before?! And, is she going there to bloody die or something? I'm really confused what you're trying to tell me."

"Those things, Ellie!" Alec marched around his desk and tapped on the telly screen. "Those are what she's going to go fight. _Alone_. She's been alone, fighting, for the past ten years. _I'm_ supposed to be fighting that with her."

"Wait, what?!"

A roll of thunder is heard in the background, perking up his face. "Was that thunder?"

"It's been storming for the past twenty minutes!" she scolded as he moved to yank the blinds on the window up, showing the rest of the desks and the wide windows showing a grey sky. "You'd know if you didn't lock yourself in here!"

He twirled on his heel to look back at Ellie. "Are you gonna give me your keys, or are you going drive me?"

"And why would I do either of those?"

"Because you're my conscience, and you should know by now that I'm in love with her."

#

Into the pouring rain Alec went as soon as Ellie pulled her car in front of the Tyler's house; he had ignored her exasperated rant on the way, she telling him how 'they'd already be gone' and what did he 'expect to find other than an empty house?' But, he knew she couldn't leave without _it._ Something physical she could leave behind so she'd have an excuse to come back. Something he could use as his _forever_.

He stumbled irrationally back into the rain after finding it taped onto the front door, carefully plucking it off with nervous, wet fingers before reading every last word and placing it carefully into his inner jacket pocket.

After he knocked on Ellie's passenger window and she rolled it down, he called over the sound of the rain in a hurried voice: "She's waiting for me!"

"What?! She's gonna be long gone by now! She left early!"

He shook his head adamantly. "No! Helicopters can't fly in thunderstorms! They're gonna be waiting for a Zeppelin!"

"Where?!" Ellie looked out her window, as though she would be able to spot something.

"I know where it is! She left me a note! Go back to the station and tell Jenkinson I said thank you!"

"Hardy! Is this a goodbye?! How can you possibly know she'll be up there?! And that even if she is, her family'll let you come along to wherever it is they're going?!"

"Ta!" he nodded at her before tapping the hood of her car and dashing off.

After he had gone, Ellie sat in a tense daze for a few moments, before relaxing and muttering under her breath, "'Ta', that bastard."

#

 _16_ _th_ _June to_ _June_ _2015_ _? "There's fucking beaches everywhere"_

The higher Alec climbed, the windier it got, making it difficult to keep a steady, quick pace. Thunder clapped loudly in the background as he squinted through the downpour.

 ** _Broadchurch._**

 _They really were everywhere. But because of them, I started calling Pete my dad, because he is. Despite where he's from, despite where_ _I'm_ _from, he's my dad. Tony's not my half-brother, he's my_ _brother_ _. It only took another trip to the hospital, a meeting with a man who looked just like_ _ **the Doctor**_ _, and a chippy to make me realise that my family was mine. That this life was mine._

He was soaked all through his clothing, and he hoped that her note would stay intact, because it would be something he'd want to read over and over for the rest of his life.

 _Speaking of the man who had my Doctor's face…he was grumpy. And scraggly. Had a beard. Wore a suit and tie. Was a Detective. Saved me from being hit by a car (_ _that was the hospital trip/ STITCHES_ _). And I fell in love with him. The man who looked like the Doctor. I didn't want to. I had just wanted to talk to him. Maybe imagine my Doctor, maybe want to punch the bloke in the face. But he's_ _mine_ _. I think I might love him despite the fact he looks just like "him". I think he might love me despite the fact I talk about aliens and multi-universes._

The note was just so _Rose_. Every syllable he had read, he had imagined her face and voice in his mind saying it all to him.

 _I don't know where I'm heading (whether it be Antarctica or the moon), but I know_ _who_ _I want to head somewhere with, and it's him. I hope I don't lose him. I really hope I don't._

It was the closest thing to reading her mind he could come to.

 _Remembrance Starting Points_ _:_

· _Terry's Fish Co._

· _Bookshop (_ _staying strong_ _!)_

· _"_ _Mate-date" ;)_

· _20 Questions_

· **_Alec Michael Hardy_** _ß_ _never forget him_ _, for the rest of your life_

He knew it had to be part of not just _any_ journal by the time he had reached _that_ part—the part where she wanted to remember everything for forever, because that was so Rose—but, a journal so she _could_ remember everything for forever. Most people had journals to let off steam, or to write freely with no cares…to never read it again. But the journal was intended for Rose's eyes only, and it made it so much more intimate; he could imagine pages and pages of things having to do with the Doctor, and a dozen more blank pages ready to be filled with things having to do with himself.

 _If I really know you like I do, I know you've quit your job, and've come running to catch the helicopter because you realised that you should come too because we're both the heroes of our story. Knowing our shit luck, I'm gonna be long gone by the time you reach the top of our cliff. And that's okay. I'm going to try to come back to you. I will. But, I've never said this in person to you yet, and if this paper is the last paper I ever write on—if this is the last message you ever hear from me—read this out loud and imagine my voice, my face, saying:_ _ **I love you**_ _._

He never needed an 'I love you.' He still didn't need one from her as he caught sight of the sitting helicopter in the rain, with the Tyler's vehicle close by. It wasn't like one of those films where he needed closure, he needed a proper goodbye, or he just needed her to tell him that she loved him. He committed an entirely selfish and selfless act by sprinting up _their_ cliff, by rapping on her car window, and by getting to see a Rose Tyler expression that wasn't just on paper.

"I knew when they told me we had to wait for a Zeppelin that you'd make it!" her voice shouted over the rain once she'd climbed out with a wide smile on her face.

"I would have made it even if you hadn't had to wait! We're constant!"

"Did you read my letter?!"

Alec moved to clutch her hands in his own, watching her hair quickly begin to stick to the side of her face and her clothes fade and cling to her body. "Of course I read it! You'd never leave without leaving something behind!"

She could hardly see him, even in front of her, in the pouring rain, but she could feel his slick hands in hers and notice the way his body naturally leaned towards hers. Rose had ripped the page out of the journal, scratching the note down at the bottom, hoping he would at least read the last three words (in case he still didn't know how she felt). She'd never said them out loud, those three little words, and she didn't know quite why. It wasn't like they were attached to the Doctor, it wasn't like she didn't mean them for Alec. She wasn't scared, she wasn't nervous. Maybe…maybe it was because she knew that he knew. The 'I love you' she left on the note was precautionary, in case she'd never get to say them again, because eventually, she might want to. She wanted the option to, but never an obligation. 'I love you' wasn't something you said in passing. It was something you said if a.) the person didn't already know or b.) it was to be the last time you'd ever say it. It wasn't either of those times. She knew that he knew, and she knew where they were headed. "Do you need me to say it now?! That I love you?! That I can't live a second without you?!" she asked him.

He brought one of the hands holding hers up to his heart. "You already did, a long time ago!"

They were headed towards that moment, when she reached up and met his mouth with hers.

And onto the next one.


	18. Epilogue

_Listen to: "Auld Lang Syne" by Bing Crosby or "The Parting Glass" by Celtic Woman_

* * *

 _Based on this AU plot from_ _ciraeus on tumblr_ _: "Having to put up holiday decorations together after a big fight."_

* * *

 _We twa hae run about the braes,_

 _and pou'd the gowans fine;_

 _But we've wander'd mony a weary fit,_

 _sin' auld lang syne._

"Auld Lang Syne"

* * *

 ** _Epilogue_**

* * *

Pete's universe's Jackie Tyler always had an annual Christmas Eve gala at the mansion, therefore, the Doctor's universe's Jackie Tyler also had to do the same. So, that year made it the 17th Christmas Eve gala, and the 8th that Rose would attend.

Rose had always loved Christmas back in the Doctor's universe with just her and her mum. Jackie used to play songs like "It's The Most Wonderful Time of the Year" or put on the VHS tape recording of _A Charlie Brown Christmas_. Usually she didn't get much underneath the tree, just some clothes or a board game or two. But in her stocking that she always looked forward to, she would get a few bags of Chocolate Buttons that she'd try to make last through January.

Rose's mum tried to keep the traditions from their home universe in Pete's world with Tony, but problems arose, like the fact that the VHS tape recording of _A Charlie Brown Christmas_ was left behind and DVD just wasn't the same as hearing the worn tape whirr. Tony though, enjoyed _Home Alone_ better, so _Home Alone_ was the feature of Christmas morning playing in the background as he would tear through the numerous presents under the 4 metre tree instead of _A Charlie Brown Christmas_ (something Jackie and Rose would watch later on their own). Rose could put up with the different film, but the _8_ _th_ Christmas Eve gala? The _eighth_ time putting on a fancy red dress and posing in front of the Christmas tree with colleagues and socialites and celebrities? She was just grateful she now had someone to share the misery with, because unfortunately, Jackie found the opportunity to dress to the nines invigorating.

"I bet you that lad right over there with the _striking_ toupee is five minutes away from strangling his wife," Alec whispered in Rose's ear while turning her body in the direction of the man attempting to get a word in between his wife's and another woman's conversation from across the room.

Rose's hand went to rest on the sleeve of Alec's jacket as she looked back at him, smirking: "I hope I don't talk _that_ much."

" _Well_ ," he began, jokingly, she taking her hand on his arm and lightly slapping him. As their laughter died off, he slowly took her hands in his and threaded their fingers together. "Is this one of your favourites?"

He was referring to the music playing in the background, and she paused to listen to a few verses of "Sleigh Ride" from the band in the corner of the foyer. "In a jazzy sort of way," she grinned.

"A jazzy sort of way?" he teased while cocking an eyebrow.

"Was that your way of asking me to dance?" she knowingly replied.

"Oh, Mrs. Hardy, I think I'll just dance with you when it's just the two of us," he brought his voice down to a low tone.

Rose hummed. "Hm, I think I'd like that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "Just you and me, no Jackie or Pete or Tony."

Alec thought that sounded fantastic—some alone time with Rose. Having spent the past day in the mansion (not to mention the time spent the previous week for the wedding) with Jackie's constant stream of chatter and Tony's precious, but rather annoying, pleas for company made him dread the next two days.

"Just think, when we still have a honeymoon to go on, after New Year's," she drawled. "You'll have me all to yourself."

Alec smirked. "How about we start that now?"

She batted her long eyelashes at him. "How about I go keep Tony company upstairs while you make sure my mum doesn't find out that I've bailed?"

"Oh, no way," he quickly shook his head. "I'm as miserable as you right now."

"How about I make it worth your while tonight?"

"But you're on your— _oh_ ," he rose his eyebrows perceptively.

Rose nodded with a slight grin. " _Yes_ , then that's set, then?"

Just before she turned to leave, he pressed a lingering kiss against her lips. "You look _so_ good tonight," he murmured afterwards, his eyes cutting down her red sequined top.

"I know, you've already said that. And you know how smart you look, so stop fishing for compliments," she lightly scolded him with a smile on her lips.

He chuckled, being caught by her. "Yeah, yeah."

She brought up their entwined hands and gave them a kiss before sliding her fingers through to walk into the throng of guests.

He could only sigh and glance around the room for some form of entertainment in someone.

"How's married life been treating you, Alec, dear?" he heard an old voice croak from beside him, and he immediately knew it would be bloody Gladys Knight, just because it was him, and he had the shittiest luck.

"Very kindly, Mrs. Knight," he turned to greet her, with a plastered smile, "I should say."

"Now where'd you honeymoon?" Gladys leaned in as close as her cane would allow.

"After New Year's we're headed to Paris," Alec nodded almost as awkwardly as possible.

"Awh, how romantic! Now remember, this is important: you must get her pregnant by the end of January if you want any hopes for fall baby. It's scientifically proven that fall babies live longer. I was born in October, and I'm turning 90 next year. You don't hear about that every day, now do you?"

His smile turned painful. "Oh, I don't think we're thinking about that just yet."

"Well, you better! The older you get, the more chance there is for something to go wrong! I had a girlfriend who didn't have a baby 'till she was 48, and her baby was born completely deaf!"

He began to wonder if Gladys was deaf by the way she was nearly shouting over "It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas." "Well, I think we have quite a number of years to worry over that, Mrs. Knight."

"Well, aren't you in your mid-forties now? It goes both ways! You don't want your baby to be completely deaf do you? My girlfriend's son's never heard 'God Save The Queen!' What kind of life is that?!"

How he managed to hold back from rolling his eyes was beyond him. But, did she have a point? The deaf thing, no, but if Rose and him had a baby that day, he'd be 62 when it turned 18. Alec wasn't quite sure if that okay with him. And, if Rose wanted to wait…that'd put him at maybe 64, 65. He knew he wanted another baby; he needed another shot to raise a child after he fucked up with Daisy (they hadn't spoken since the wedding). But, he couldn't wait three or four years, that'd be doing a disservice to that child. But, trying to rush Rose—the most important variable in the problem—that'd be doing a disservice to her.

He needed a drink if he was contemplating the validity of Gladys Knight.

#

When Rose found him later after the gala had worn thin and most of the guests had already departed, he was still at the bar in the other room, running his finger over the rim of a glass of scotch.

"That bad, huh?" she spoke up from behind him, gently to not startle him.

" _Gladys Knight_ spoke with me for half an hour," Alec replied, the statement self-explanatory for the drink in front of him.

She leaned on the bar top next to him. "So it appears I _really_ owe you, then."

Turning to look at her, a smirk appeared on his face. "After that, I deserve a lottery win."

"Alright, next year you can flee while I stay and talk to Mrs. Knight."

Alec snorted. "I'm hoping there _won't_ be a next year for her."

She laughed into the back of her hand. "Oh god, I know. But think, you've only known her since the engagement party, I've known her since I came here."

He shook his head at that.

"So what did she talk to you about?"

"Oh you know," he said, "us and other things not of her concern."

"Ah, that's Gladys," Rose bit painfully.

"You know, she remind me of your mum sometimes."

She gasped loudly. "Gladys _is_ my mum in forty years! My dad's gonna have to be committed, he can't stand her Gladys either!"

" _Gladys_ can't stand Gladys," he laughed.

"True," she nodded with a giggle.

They sat in silent for a few moments…long enough for the comments from Gladys to resurface in his head, the alcohol apparently having no effect over any of his worries concerning Rose and the prospect of children.

"Oh, honey," she tapped his arm, "don't let me forget, before we go to bed, my mum finally found that garland and she wants us to put it up on the railing of the stairs. Remember the missing garland?"

Alec did remember a very flustered and shrieking Jackie Tyler threatening to cancel the gala because of the missing garland, but his wife's question only managed to faintly stick with him, his mind still over-run with images of him retiring as their child graduated secondary. He didn't want to admit it, but it bothered him. Would he even live to see their child get married and start a family? That was a problem he and Rose needed to discuss soon, and for some unnamable, regrettable reason, he decided they needed to discuss it then. "So, Gladys asked about children."

A stunned Rose paused for a few seconds, confused at the sudden change of conversation. "Oh, well, I hope you didn't let her bother you by it. She's always been rather thick."

He soundlessly nodded at her obvious dismissal of the topic. He could drop it then and change the subject easily, avoiding a conversation about a topic they'd never discussed (and one Alec was afraid to discuss). But, he already had an in, he may not have another opportunity where he was already in the conversation and had enough courage to blurt out: "How do you feel about it? Children, that is?"

Her arms tensed on the bar top. "Well…I—we haven't really talked about it."

Alec looked down at his glass. "Would you want to talk about it?"

With a sigh: "Now? I really don't want to argue."

In their few months of being together, Alec and Rose had rarely fought, and the fights they _did_ have only lasted for a few hours, a day maximum. He usually managed to avoid rows rather well, letting her get her anger out at him when needed and walking away without saying a hurtful word, but…did she expect a fight out of a conversation about whether or not to have children? Did she just assume they'd have different views on it? "Why would we fight? It's all up to you, I just want you to be happy."

"Alec…ugh, that's exactly it. You make me feel so guilty sometimes," she shook her head.

"What, how?" he turned to look at her.

"You—" she paused, "let's talk about this later, okay? It's Christmas Eve."

Her voice plead with him, but he refused to listen. "Do you want children?"

" _Alec_ ," she snapped. "We haven't even been married for a week. This can wait."

"But can it? I'm turning 45 next year, Rose."

"I don't see why that's a big deal," she replied, stubbornly.

"It's a big deal because I'm bloody _old_ ," his voice raised a hair.

"So Gladys did bother you then?"

"No! Well, I don't know, it wasn't just her. Look, I had Daisy when I was 28."

Rose nodded. "Okay, yeah."

"If we don't have a child in the next few years and we wait like I did with Tess, I'm gonna be 50 soon."

"My parents had Tony when they were in their forties," she pointed out.

"But they don't have this!" he angrily pointed to his heart. "I want to see our child grow up, Rose!"

She looked away from him and was silent for a few moments before murmuring: "That's how you make me feel guilty. You say you want me to be happy, but then you bring up things like that and…" Her voice trailed off.

"And what?" Alec said.

"And…I don't know," her shoulder shrugged. "It reminds me that you're human."

Was she comparing him to the Doctor? Anger crawled up his spine as he lashed out: "Oh, so this is about _him_ , then?"

"No! Of course not! I don't think I like the way you've been acting the last couple of days!"

"You mean since Ellie told us how _he_ was there?! At our wedding?!" Alec remembered the dread he had felt when Ellie had approached them during the reception, telling them of how a man looking very close to Alec had spoken with her, telling Ellie to send Alec and Rose his best wishes from someone who 'didn't matter.' Rose's eyes had turned tense, her eyebrows shocked into thin lines. She had run out, her dress picked up by her fists, and he had quickly followed, seeing her standing alone in the snow, her head turning in a frantic search for _him_.

"I thought we'd never speak of that again," she quivered.

"Why? So you can spend the next years wondering what would've happened if you'd caught him before he left?"

"What has gotten into you?! You know that I would have never left you for him!"

"It didn't seem like that when I got out there to see _you_ ," his voice broke, "standing there, looking for him, and you didn't see _me_ anymore."

"What did you want me to do? Not run out there and look for him! I thought I'd never see him again!"

"What about me? What if you never saw me again?"

"Exactly! Would you want me to move on and never give you a second thought? Does the Doctor not deserve that?"

At that, his anger and hurt slowly dissipated. Of course he'd want Rose to think of him, and she'd have to. She'd live long after him, he was sure of it. But, he'd never thought about the Doctor like that. He'd never thought the Doctor of having feelings for Rose, just Rose's feelings towards him.

"That's what I thought," she replied, almost cruelly when he didn't respond. "Don't paint me like I'm not giving you everything I have. You are my _everything_. And if you want a child, then I'll give you one, but don't make it because you're afraid of dying. You should be happy you have to right to die, because somewhere out there is the Doctor, and he's cursed into living for the rest of eternity… _alone_."

Rose leaned away from the bar top and quickly walked away, leaving him to feel like he had just done something incredibly stupid. They'd spoken before on the issue of the Doctor's regenerations, and how she'd found it difficult to see Alec as a different man when the Doctor had so much engrained into her in the past that even with the change of face, he'd always be the same man. He didn't give her enough credit, for loving him after everything she'd been through. She didn't have to speak with him ever again after the accident on Main Street, but she did. She spoke with him and he fell in love with her and they got married…and took her for granted now. He wanted her to completely purge herself of any past with the Doctor…but then she wouldn't be _Rose_. She was who she was because of _him_. If it wasn't for the Doctor, he would have never met Rose. He owed his _everything_ to the Doctor.

#

"Alec!" Jackie caught him as he was departing from the bar, heading to his and Rose's bedroom. "Garland's right there," she pointed to the bundles sitting along the wall. "I'll go fetch Rose from the kitchen, can you go ahead and get started on that?"

He winced and put his hands in his pockets guiltily. "Jackie, I don't think that'd be the best idea. We just had a row and she's probably not in the mood."

"Alright, what'd you say to her?" she put her hands on her hips.

"It's nothing," he shook his head.

"Well, if it's nothing then you wouldn't mind working on this with her, right?"

Rose's mum cleverly phrased her question in a way that should have forced Alec into talking about it, but he refused to give Jackie the satisfaction of that. "Yeah, fine," he gestured to the kitchen.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Alright, then I guess I'll go get her."

He just nodded in response, irking Jackie who went off the fetch Rose, leaving him standing alone, staring emptily at the bundles of garland leaning up against the wall. Alec was rubbish at making up after rows, usually waiting for Rose to come to him, or just awkwardly pretending like the row never happened. Maybe it was because he was prideful, or maybe it was because he didn't understand how Rose could stay with him after everything. After the wedding reception, he thought they were done. In those few seconds as she ran, he thought he'd go to bed alone. Still, he's constantly on guard. If the Doctor showed up then at the reception, when would he pop around next? It could be in the next two seconds or in ten years. Any row with Rose could be their last. She could set off without him, looking for the next time _he_ would come. Would Alec blame her? Of course he knew she loved him, but the Doctor was him and so much more…

She had no clue what it felt like. To be in a constant state of insecurity. A constant state of paranoia…fear of the Doctor's imminent reappearance. Before the wedding, he'd acted like the Doctor was dead, but now…he was so inferior, such a second choice. He wanted to tell Rose all of these things. Let her know she didn't have to stay with him. He'd help her find _him_ …because he loved her.

Her shoes clacked on the flooring from behind him, and he turned over his shoulder to give her a brief glance. She had to be cross with him, he'd brought up the incident at the wedding. And, shouldn't he be cross with her too? She pitied the Doctor and denied the fact that she would have left him if she would have just caught _him_ a few minutes earlier. But he wasn't. He just felt so sad that his soulmate, his _everything_ , didn't see him for those heart-pounding seconds in the snow.

"Hand me one," she said tight-lipped from his side.

In an awkward, tense silence, he bent over to pick up a bundle before handing it to her. He watched as she walked away, unwinding the garland from the plastic. He could say he was sorry. He could beg her to forgive him. Yet, when he opened his mouth, nothing came out. He couldn't bring himself to say a single word to her because he didn't trust himself to say something she shouldn't have to hear. She shouldn't have to hear about his troubles with Doctor and his constant worrying. She was doing the best she could with loving two different, yet similar men. The only reason why Alec was upset was because he was jealous of the other man. She had the right to love them both, but yet he wanted everything she had.

After picking up a bundle of garland, he began to start on the other stair railing, the both unwinding and wrapping in the dead, suffocating quiet.

Rose really wasn't cross with him, but he should be cross with her. Regretfully, she ran out at their wedding reception, searching for another man! She was just surprised he'd pretended like it had never happened for this long. What he had said before, _"standing there, looking for him…you didn't see_ me _anymore_ ," she played on reel in her mind, over and over and over again, because it was true. Even though she had quickly followed with an angry counter-arguement, she remembered that she didn't remember her husband in those heart-wrenching few seconds of hope that the Doctor had arrived. But what would she have done if she had ran out there to find him waiting for her? Alec running out behind her, waiting for her to make a choice? That's what haunted her at night. A moment in time where she had to make a choice, and she feared making the wrong one. Every day it seemed to change, some days she'd miss the Doctor less and less, and then someone would say something or do something that reminded her of him, and he plagued her mind once more. But, the person who was always constant in her head, telling her she'd be okay no matter what, the one person who she trusted to never, ever leave her, was the one who was probably so very cross with her at that very moment. How could she tell him that whether right or wrong, he was her choice? That maybe, perhaps, she had chased the Doctor out onto the lawn to tell him her choice? That she did see him, and she promised to never go blind ever again.

She needed to say something, anything. He must be too angry with her to even speak to her. But what would she say? She could say she was sorry, and go on about everything she had just vowed to herself. About how he was her choice, forever and always. But, when she opened her mouth to say something…anything…her voice was mute. She couldn't bring herself to say a single word to him because she didn't trust herself not to cry. It was bloody Christmas Eve, and she was in a row with her husband, afraid to cry. He was right behind her, she could end it all right then and be able to touch him, slide her hands up the sleeves of his suit jacket and have him all to herself. Rose opened her mouth again to speak, but her mind went blank. She was working mindlessly on the railing, and she then noticed that she was almost finished. Her time was running out to make it right. "I hope _he_ never comes back, if it means losing you," the words slipped out before she could catch them, her voice growing close to a whisper by the end.

She couldn't see him because her back was turned on the steps of the staircase, but she could imagine he probably stilled his work on the garland, staring down blankly, wondering what she meant by what she just said, and _if_ she truly meant it.

A few moments passed as she waited for his response with a held-breath and stinging eyes.

"That's not what I want. I just want you to…be happy. With or without me, with or without kids…" he sighed. "I hope you know that. What I was pushing before, with _him_ and children…I didn't mean it. Well, I did, but in a way that I didn't…if you know what I mean."

Rose knew what he meant. Knew that he regretted feeling worry over the issue of the Doctor and the issue of the prospect of children with Alec's age. "You were right how I didn't see you. And I—" her shoulder sagged as she exhaled deeply. But, before she could continue she felt the weight on her shoulder from Alec's head and the heat from his body pressed up behind her.

"I don't care if you never see me again, as long as you're happy," he murmured against the fabric of her dress.

"You don't get it, Alec," her nose twitched as she fought back tears, "I'm not happy unless I'm seeing you. In that moment outside of the reception, I didn't feel relief until I turned back and saw you waiting for me."

" _Rose_ ," Alec's voice broke. "I didn't know if I'd ever see you again. I didn't know what I'd find when I followed you…if I'd find anything at all."

Stunned, she dropped her garland and turned around, making him raise his head. "You never told me that," she breathed.

"Was I supposed to?"

Rose shook her head. "I didn't mean—"

"I know," he interrupted her.

"I want to," she impulsively rushed, without a second thought.

"Want to what?"

"I want to have children. With you."

"Out of pity, Rose?" he shook his head.

She shook her head again. "Never. I want to see _us_. Together in something permanent."

A small smile appeared on Alec's face. "Yeah?"

The smile on his face spread to hers, she saying with a sort of spontaneous, nervous excitement: "I want to show you something." She grabbed his hand and began sprinting up the staircase.

"Wait," he laughed as he glanced back at the mess of the garland on the railing, "we never finished."

"Oh, mum can do it herself, I want to show you something more important."

She led them up to their bedroom in the Tyler mansion, for their use when they aren't at their house in Islington. Letting go of his hand after opening the door and flicking on the lights, she stepped over empty suitcases and discarded shoes to her backpack sitting beside the closet. She rummaged around for a few moments before pulling out the notebook she'd never let Alec look inside of.

"Come here, I want you to see something," she beckoned him over to her with a wave of her hand.

As he made his way over to her, she hurriedly flipped through the pages, each page she passed making a wrinkled, sharp sound.

"Read this one page, and tell me I pity you," she breathlessly held out the open journal to her husband.

With a raise of his eyebrow he grabbed hold of the journal and held it up a lengths away from his face so he could make out exactly what it said without the use of his spectacles.

 _19_ _th_ _December 2015 "The New Constant"_

 _My Vows:_

 _You make me_

 _I don't understand why no one else is disturbed by how we're constant_

 _No one will believe our love story. No one will believe that I fell in love with you in a different universe and I found you again, just quite differently. Just like no one will believe me when I tell them that we aren't soulmates, because_ _he_ _was just my soulmate and you…you Alec cannot be summed up into a single word. There is no word in the entirety of all of the world's languages that can describe how you make me feel, and how you irrevocably complete me. Meeting you was the most constant thing in my life, and you always used to tell me that we'd stay together as long as it worked. But, it doesn't matter if it works or if it doesn't._ _ **We**_ _exist despite that._

 _To sum up millions and millions of feelings and emotions in just a few words, I tell you that_ _I love you_ _I believe in Alec Michael Hardy and you aren't just anything, you're everything._

 _Remembrance Starting Points_ _:_

· _You made Alec Michael Hardy_ _cry_ _!_

· _First Dance: "Auld Lang Syne" in the style of Bing Crosby (per Alec's preference)_

· _The Doctor in the snow? Maybe? Does that really matter to you that_ _he_ _was there?_

· **_No_** _(remember looking back at Alec and knowing that'd he always be there for you)_

· _Rose Marion Hardy :) Pure-dead brilliant._

"I did not _cry_ ," Alec joked, looking up once finishing the page.

She grinned. "I remember you crying during mine _and_ yours."

"Well," he shrugged, closing the journal, "small details."

Rose laughed and took her journal back from him, but then hesitated. "You should read all of it. Every single page. If you want to get inside my head, and know what I'm thinking, you need to read it all."

He shook his head and pushed the journal away. "I don't want inside your head. I need to learn to trust you and…"

"Believe in Rose Marion _Hardy_?" she finished with a smirk.

"Aye," he nodded. "I've never believed in you more than right now."

She smiled up at him for a few moments before saying: "You know, I still owe you for before."

Alec rolled his eyes. "Oh Rose, come on, you don't have to. Let's go back downstairs and get a drink."

Rose reached over to place her journal on the top of the chest of drawers before beckoning him by just her index finger. "How about we get a drink later, hm?"

He opened his mouth for a reply, but his mind lost sight of what he was about to say when she reached over her shoulder to begin unzipping her dress. In a wordless agreement with one another, he went to lock the door and dim the lights while she slipped off her heels and let the loosened dress fall to the floor next to her shoes.

On the way back over to Rose who had moved to sit on the bed, he unbuttoned his suit jacket and took it off of his shoulders, throwing it haphazardly onto one of their suitcases. Before getting on the bed he thunked! off his shoes; while moving across the bed he managed to loosen his tie.

With a giddy smile on her face, she laid back to let Alec hover over her and immediately began to slide his tie out from underneath his collar while he brought his lips down to hers. He thrusted his tongue into her mouth and she tossed his tie to the side before beginning to unbutton his oxford. When he began grinding his hips against hers she gasped, halting her work on his buttons. He breathed hotly against her mouth and untucked his oxford with a yank using one of his hands.

"I love you," he managed to sneak in between a kiss.

She responded with a content exhale and resumed her efforts on his buttons.

After his oxford had been shed, Alec moved from her mouth down to her neck, lingering on her pulse point.

Her fingernails scratched at his bare back as his tongue dipped to move along her skin. He continued to grind up against Rose, feeling himself become more and more aroused.

She felt it too, hard through his trousers and against her. She moved her arms up to wrap around his torso, the couple's usual cue to flip over. But, Alec surprisingly ignored her (which was a first). Confused, she couldn't help but say as one of her arms slipped away: "Honey?"

He brought his head up from her neck. "Just a tick, I don't want to skip something," he murmured.

Rose smiled when she felt the fingers on one of his hands trace across the edge of her bra. "Right, how could I forget?"

"And maybe?" he wordlessly finished the question with the jump of his fingers down to the elastic of her knickers.

She shook her head with a scrunch of her nose and her tongue in between her teeth. "Maybe not till Boxing Day, I'm afraid."

"I'll just have to make up for the loss then," he whispered, his mouth near her ear. His fingers returned up to the underwire of her bra, running along the path it lead to where her torso met the sheets of the bed.

With long-practiced skill, Rose managed to arch her back up to press against Alec's chest just long enough for him to slide his hand between her back and the bed to unhook her bra with a fumble. With it loose, she slipped it off and tossed to the side, waiting for the predictable light touch of his fingers as he traced them over her breasts.

The tips of his fingers were cold as he moved them over her but his mouth when he brought his head down was— _god_. Her hands quickly flitted to wind in his hair, pulling it up from his forehead. She could feel the familiar facial hair on top of his warm skin, and she couldn't help but move her hips up against his in a frenzy as she felt a knot growing rapidly in her stomach.

Rose let him pay attention to her for a while, she spending her time during the kissing and the sucking and nipping to make his hair stand up on its end and grind her hips along his until she could feel his fists clench the sheets. Eventually it became too much for him, and he had to pull back from her, sitting up on his knees with a frustrated huff. "Rose, sorry I need to cool down for a bit," he ran his fingers through his hair, keeping his eyes trained unabashedly on her chest.

"Or," she drawled with a smirk as she sat up, "you could do the opposite." A clink was heard as Rose reached out to rap on his belt buckle.

Alec cocked an eyebrow up at her.

Her response was to wrap her arms around his torso.

"I won't protest, you know," he grinned while letting her change their positions.

"Good, I hope you don't, you talk too much," she quipped as she crawled down his torso after he'd laid back.

"Oi, if anyone's the talker it's you."

"Really? Let's put that to test."

"I'll win."

Rose laughed. "Sure you will." Her hands began to unfasten his belt.

He rolled his eyes. "Shall we make this a bet?"

"Hm," her hands stilled as she glanced back up at him. "What's the incentive?"

"If I win, you have to talk to Gladys Knight next time."

"Alright sure, but when you mutter one word and _I_ win, which I will, you have to explain to my mum why the garland didn't get hung."

He scoffed. "Oh come on, that's not bloody fair."

"Scared you'll lose, then?"

"No," he quickly interjected, "of course not."

The zip of his fly came down with haste. "That's what I thought."

He held his breath as the elastic of his pants slid down and he could feel the chill in the air, and the slight warm breath from Rose. Instead of starting with her hands like usual, she began with a long swipe from her tongue, inciting a low rumble from him. She was trying to make him say her name, she was trying to make him _lose_. Instead, he gritted his teeth and wound his fingers in her hair (something he usually never did) while he took more of him with her mouth. One of her hands went to cup him, while the other moved to hold him steady. His hips bucked up with the rhythm of her mouth as he continued to grit his teeth and groan.

Her mouth slid off of him before she said with amusement: "Having trouble not talking?"

Remaining wordless, he tugged her head by her hair back down near him, raising his hips in an attempt to find her mouth once again.

Not before laughing, she placed her mouth back on him, rousing him to move his hips without thought. Her fingers dug into the fabric of his trousers in an attempt to restrain him. A tad frustrated that he was maintaining success at quieting, she decided to take the chance and experiment, adjusting her mouth to allow the slightest scrape of her teeth to run along him underneath her lips.

Chills immediately shot up his abdomen at the sensation of the light grazing her teeth and he quickly brought one of his hands up to slap over his mouth to control his mouth from spilling nonsense words. Instead they flew through his mind in a jumble of loud noise: _God_ _Rose Bloody hell Don't stop I fucking I love you so much Rose you're perfect Your teeth God I'm going to Please don't stop I can't win I have to I love you more anything Fucking hell._ Usually by that time, he would have warned Rose of his impending orgasm to give her enough time to either pull back (which she did sometimes do) or prepare herself. But, refusing to lose the bet, his only option was to tighten his hold on her hair and growl at the back of his throat, something that he hoped would translate over to her.

If it had, she didn't pull back, and with one final rub of her teeth, his body tensed and his fingers dug into his cheek as his head sunk deeper into the pillow.

Her mouth slipped off of him and she said a bit bitterly: "Did you just win?"

A laugh escaped him as he took his hand away from his face. "Have fun with Gladys Knight."

#

They hadn't ever made it back downstairs to finish the garland, or to get that drink. She awoke to the light streaming in from the shutters on their window, and Alec vanished from the space beside her. The two had spent hours into the night talking about the prospect of having a child and everything that came with it. Names, cribs, schools, how many to have, city raised or country raised, Scottish accent (?), less dangerous jobs for the two of them, whether or not Jackie should be allowed anywhere near their children…at what age their child should learn about Torchwood and aliens and the man who shared the same face as their dad.

He had suggested the name John for a boy, in which Rose had immediately grew silent. She had long since told him about the name _he_ went under as an alias, but to name their child after _him_? She didn't know whether she loved it or loathed it. When she looked at her _their_ son, she wanted to see him, not _him_. To be reminded, never haunted.

Of course Alec had grown worried at the fact that she didn't respond straight away, following up his suggestion with: "Or maybe something else, yeah?"

"Yeah," she had whispered, "maybe something else."

They had tossed around numerous names that night, everything from Hamish for a boy, to Jamie for a girl. Alec hadn't quite liked Hamish and neither of them had liked Jamie ("too ambiguous," he had said).

"We could always save John for a middle name," she had suddenly spoken up.

He had rubbed her arm reassuringly before asking: "Yeah?"

"Maybe we can decide on that right now. A middle name. John if it's a boy…Jane if it's a girl."

"I quite like that."

And she had smiled.

She focused her hearing on the voice echoing through the house from the floor below, instantly recognising one of those to be from her mother (how she was up this early was only from the aid of Tony's impatience to open presents). Rose was anxious to see her husband's face as he came across her present (the both had decided to only give each other one, meaningful gift). She, of course, had stressed completely over what to get him, looking with her family for weeks in the shops to find the perfect for him. But, like her engagement ring (Alec's mother's), she came to the conclusion that the present couldn't be store-bought. It had to be something special, something original (never cliché). So, she spoke with Daisy (definitely not with the awkward Tess) about it at the wedding and asked her to mail Rose something that would immediately prove to Alec that Daisy loved him. Because, Rose decided, Alec had her, but he still didn't have his daughter. That was the one thing special…the one thing original (never cliché).

She received the parcel from Daisy two days prior, eagerly taking it from Pete's hands and stowing it in the back of Tony's closet, reminding herself to wrap it later. She hadn't even looked inside because she didn't allow herself to. Daisy was Alec's daughter, and whatever was in that box, whether a photo album or a school art project, was his only. Daisy was that part of Alec's life that didn't involve Rose, just like how the Doctor didn't involve Alec.

Rose wondered what Alec could've gotten her as she slowly rose from the bed, stretching her arms and legs. She imaged some sort of journal or book, maybe a precious family heirloom. He knew what she wanted though, more than anything else in the world. She wanted something of _his_. Just a picture or a tie of his or a piece of precious Tardis coral. Something—anything—to put in the back of her closet. Something to sit underneath boxes of Christmas decorations and collect dust because it wasn't the fact that she could look at it and remember, it was the fact that she _had_ it that mattered. Sometimes it was comforting just to know something was there.

Her mother's voice grew to a more audible level as she left their room after declaring herself appropriate to go downstairs with everyone else, a robe wrapped around herself and her hair pulled back from her face.

"—you'd like. I know that colour looks great on you," Jackie's voice floated upwards while Rose descended the stairs (the garland completed).

"Turn on the music, mum! I wanna hear Rudolf again!" Tony's perky voice was heard.

"Not now! You'll wake your sister! You played it too loud before!" she immediately scolded.

"Hang on a tick, Tony, I'll go and get her. She's probably already up," his familiar Scottish accent sank through her in all of the right places. She decided then to wait at the bottom of the staircase for him, soon seeing him turn the corner from the lounge. He stopped in his tracks once his eyes set sight on hers.

"Happy Christmas." Rose couldn't help but blush as a smile crept on her lips.

He wore jeans and a grey jumper as he stared across the space at her. "Sorry, I wanted to let you sleep."

"No, its fine," she shook her head. "Have you all opened presents yet?"

"Jackie let Tony open one, and Pete opened the ones Jackie gave him."

She laughed. "My mother is rather pushy on Christmas."

"Or any other day," Alec shrugged with humour.

"Come here," Rose beckoned him with a flick of her wrist.

He was soon right in front of her, her hands moving up his chest to link at the nape of his neck, his hands moving to rest at the small of her back.

"What'd you get me?" she smiled brightly.

"Oh, it's a surprise. But I think you'll like it," he nodded.

She breathed out a laugh. "I haven't even _seen_ your present yet."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "How is that possible?"

"I'll explain later." She rubbed the pad of her thumb along his hairline.

He leaned down and pressed his lips briefly against hers. "I rang Daisy after I got up."

"Did you?" she feigned nonchalance.

"She talked to me about all of the presents she got," he nodded.

Rose smiled. "That's good. Right?"

A little numb, all Alec could do was nod again. "Aye."

"Hey," she dropped her voice to a low whisper, "that's good. She's growing up and realising how much you love her."

"I still feel though…that I hardly know her," he looked down at her with a pitiful gaze. "I feel like one moment I'll be watching her graduate, and the next she'll be married and…" his voice tapered off.

"Honey, I promise you, even if you were still married to Tess, you'd feel the same way. She's growing up, and you're going to be feeling the same way years from now about _our_ children."

" _Our_ children," he repeated with a soft grin.

" _Our_ children," she affirmed. "And I think you should really open my present now."

#

"Do you think it'll be a jumper?" Tony's nose crinkled as he perched on the sofa in his jim jams next to Alec while Rose rummaged underneath the tree for her wrapped present, "Winter Wonderland" playing in the background while _Home Alone_ was muted on the telly. "That's what mummy got dad."

"Oh, I hope not," Alec joked.

"After you open hers, can I open mine?!" he whined.

Rose walked back towards her brother and her husband with the box in hand. "After I open his, then we can get started on yours. It's not our fault you have so many presents!"

"Yes it is! You lot are the ones that bought them!"

"Really? Would you like us to buy you less then?" Pete said from behind his video-camera at his place in the armchair.

Tony crossed his arms and leaned back in the cushions of the couch with a huff.

Rose, sitting down next to Alec, gave the present over with a smile on her face.

"So, you haven't seen what's inside?" he asked.

"Wait, _what?_ " Jackie asked incredulously as she walked into the room from the kitchen with a coffee mug in hand. "What do you mean she hasn't seen it?" She looked over at her daughter.

"Well," Rose began bashfully, "the present isn't _really_ mine. I was having trouble finding a gift for you that meant something. So at the wedding I asked Daisy if she could mail me something that would prove how much she loved you. So, here it is." She gestured towards the box in his lap.

Alec looked down at the present and then at Rose, speechless.

"Go on! Open it!" she urged him with a wide smile.

"Rose," he said helplessly, "I lo—"

"Yes, yes, quite right, now open it!"

Jackie hurried over to sit on the arm of her husband's chair, watching Alec unwrap the present with rapt observance, the music in the background abruptly changing to "A Holly Jolly Christmas."

Underneath the festively striped paper lay a brown shipping box strapped with tape, so Rose immediately said, "Oh, right," before getting up from her seat to grab the scissors and return.

After Alec cut through the tape and opened the box, he looked inside and instantly had to look back at her with a strange look. "Rose…it's your bouquet."

"What?! That doesn't make any sense," her brow furrowed as she peered inside of the box and, sure enough, spotted the wilted mass of English Roses they had had shipped in especially for the wedding—the same bouquet Daisy had caught at the wedding and Rose had told her she could keep.

"Her bouquet?" Jackie asked, with the same bewildered expression as Rose. "Are you sure it's not the one Daisy was carrying?"

"Yeah," Rose nodded and looked up at her mother. "Mine had white ribbon around it instead of pink."

Alec reached in and carefully took the bouquet out, shriveled flower petals floating down to the ground.

"Is there a note?" Pete asked.

Alec and Rose both shook their heads at the same time.

"So, I tell her to send something that'll tell you how much she loves you, and she sends something of mine? That doesn't make any sense." Rose turned to look at Alec.

For a few moments Alec looked down wordlessly at the mess of the bouquet in his hands while Rose and her family stared expectantly at him, waiting for some sort of response. By the time he spoke again, "The Christmas Song" begins to play. "I like it," he said with finality.

"What does that bouquet mean?" Jackie asked.

Alec shrugged and twirled it in his hands, sending more petals everywhere. Tony began playing with them while Alec replied: "Whatever I want it to mean, I guess."

"I'm sorry, I thought it'd be something different," Rose winced, resting a hand on his arm.

"Well, I can't imagine it being anything else," he declared. "And I think you'll find my gift to be rather similar."

"Right!" Rose jumped up from the sofa. "I still have mine to open!"

"Here," Alec rose and placed the bouquet in the box, and then the box on the floor, "let me go fetch it."

"Mum, can I unmute the movie?" Tony pointed to the telly hanging over the fireplace as Alec moved towards the tree.

"After presents and breakfast, dear. I'll restart it if you want," Jackie answered him.

Tony sighed and turned to his sister. "Rose, _I'm bored_."

"You'll get to open the rest of your presents in just a tick, Tony! If you'd just be patient!" she reproached him, causing her brother to sigh again loudly and slump against the arm of the couch.

"Alright, it's a little heavy and quite fragile, so be careful." Alec placed the box into her lap before sitting down next to her.

"Oh, I'm excited," she giddily clasped her face. "It wasn't expensive, was it?"

He rolled his eyes as he sat back down to her. "No, Rose. But would it exactly matter if it were?"

She scrunched up her nose, playing with the bow on top of the box. "No, I suppose not." Rose tugged on the bow, undoing it carefully before tossing it aside into the pile sitting on the floor with the rest of the group's wrappings. Next came the red paper and then finally she was able to open the untaped box and reach inside to pull out a good-sized jar, filled with sand. In the middle of the jar, the sand clashed, making a line that wrapped around showing the difference of colouring between the top layer and bottom layer. The bottom layer was paler, and seemed more fine and soft to the touch, while the top layer was rougher and golden in hue. With one hand she knocked the box onto the ground so she could place the jar in her lap and clasp a hand over her mouth.

A gasp erupted from Jackie's mouth, while a smirk played across Pete's.

"Sand? You lot give the strangest gifts," Tony scoffed.

"Alec! That's—" For the first time in her entire life, Jacqueline Andrea Suzette Tyler was rendered speechless, Frank Sinatra coming over the speakers with "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas."

"Rose, do you like it?" Alec ignored the reactions of everyone else in the room.

Her hand came off of her mouth as she turned to look at her husband with tears in her eyes. "How did you ever…did you go?"

"Pete and I went while you were on that one trip to Cardiff back in September," he grinned, utterly giddy.

Pete nodded when Rose glimpsed his way.

" _Alec_ , I don't know what to say," she looked down at the jar in her lap, running a finger across the glass lid.

"Yes you do," he chuckled.

"Your gift's better than mine," she breathily laughed.

He tilted his head. "No exactly what I had in mind, but for the record you don't know how much that," he gestured to the box still beside his feet, "means to me."

"You love me," she whispered softly, becoming embarrassed that her family was in the room, witnessing everything in silence.

"Constantly," was his whispered answer.

"Can it be my turn now?" Tony's soft question interrupted the couple's moment, causing Rose to shake her head and laugh while wiping stray tears from her face.

"I'll guess we'll just reward you for being impatient, go on then," Jackie frowned ushering Tony with her hand to go and rush underneath the tree.

"Oh come on honey, it's Christmas!" Pete reassuringly patted Jackie on the leg.

While her brother dove underneath the Christmas tree (unaware or just uncaring of the snide comment that Jackie had given him earlier about him being impatient) Rose readjusted herself to lean against Alec's shoulder, her hand still smoothing over the glass of the jar.

Alec moved his arm to lay around her shoulder, "Hark, The Herald Angel Sings" playing in the background. "So, those were good tears that I saw right?"

Giggling, she replied: "Yes, I promise. I'm so happy that I ended up with you. Sometimes I feel like I don't deserve you."

"Other way 'round, I think," he joked.

"Mhm, sure," she dismissed the subject. "Our first Christmas," she sighed with a smile.

"We never got to dance, you know," he started. "Just the two of us."

"Hmm, what song should it be?"

"You know, while you were still asleep, I think Rudolf grew on me."

At that, Rose burst out into laughter that made Pete and Jackie look over with smiles on their faces while Tony unwrapped his new Lego set.


	19. Ten's Farewell

_Listen to: "Vale Decem" by Murray Gold or "Rose's Theme" by Murray Gold_

* * *

 _You are not alone_

 _Never_

 _Trust to the last_

 _Farewell_

"Vale Decem"

* * *

 ** _Ten's Farewell_**

* * *

He had 30 minutes until the crack completely closed to make it right after she had left. No, not left. Got _ripped_ from him. Without a last word. Without a farewell. Without a goodbye. He owed that to her. He owed that to himself. To someone he…to someone who would have given up everything for the Doctor.

 ** _i._**

 ** _30_** ** _th_** ** _November, 2012_**

 ** _29 Minutes_**

There was a dying sun in a solar system within the Centaurus cluster, circa 30000 A.D. Using that purple jacket Rose had left behind on the console, he hooked it up to the Tardis's telepathic circuits, hoping to trace her DNA, therefore her psychic imprint, to the parallel world. He harnessed the energy from the burning sun to boost the Tardis's signal strength, hoping to land. He locked on, and held on tight.

Unable to control where the Tardis would land in her timeline, he looked at the clock after the Tardis shook its landing, only to see that it wasn't functioning properly, showing all zeros.

Bringing the Tardis's screen to him, it showed that he had landed in a large, one toilet loo.

He bounded up the ramp and out the door, closing it behind him. He grew nervous. He could be a year into her future, or fifty. So unsure, when opening the loo door, he opened it only wide enough to look through and gauge the room.

It seemed like a hospital bedroom. White walls, a plain bed. Far on the other side of the hospital room was a telly sitting on a wooden table, and in front of that telly, in an arm chair, was Rose, her profile only seen from the angle. His breath was sucked out of him as he looked her over: stringy long hair, grey jumper, and sunken looking eyes.

He needed something to gauge what time he was in, so he'd never, ever come back. That woman sitting in the chair, watching mindless telly, that _wasn't_ Rose. Because if it was Rose, that would mean that she was there because of him. She was in a mental hospital, by the looks of it, because of him. _Oh, Rose. No._

The door to the main room suddenly opened and the Doctor made very sure not to make a sound.

"Ms. Tyler, I have your medicine," a kind voice said before the lady came into view: a nurse with a tray.

"Is it already eleven?" Her voice was so broken. So rough. Gravelly. So from what he had just seen in Canary Wharf it was suffocating.

He had done it. He had broken Rose Tyler. And if he ever managed to tell her goodbye, it seemed it wouldn't help at all.

"Yes, you already had breakfast, remember?" the nurse asked kindly, resting the tray on the table next to the telly before picking up a journal that laid on the floor next to Rose, putting it next to the tray.

Rose took a hand and pressed it against her eye. "I… _no_ ," her voice cracked.

He had seen enough.

 ** _ii._**

 ** _20_** ** _th_** ** _August, 2009_**

 ** _27 minutes_**

Take two, and he had to make it a good one. He couldn't go back now, now that he saw her at her lowest point. Saw her in just a shell.

The sun's energy gone, he had to move on, this time back to the Milky Way. 5000 A.D.

He needed to find a moment in her timeline in the parallel world when she was thinking about him. Before she would inevitably move on.

The Doctor placed his own hand in the telepathic circuit to aid the use of her jacket, using his other hand to pull the level on the console.

The Tardis whirred and came to a familiar rough stop.

Outside the Tardis doors he found himself him the backroom of a warehouse, by the looks of the metal walling, filled with miscellaneous boxes and, to his amusement, broken pieces of alien technology.

He heard a loud, almost deafening, blast from behind the door in front of him and then felt a few moments later, a low wave of heat.

Opening the door slowly and peaking carefully from behind it, he saw the larger portion of the warehouse as expected. This portion was filled with numerous men and women wearing lab coats, tables littered with equipment and sensors, people in uniform standing around with large guns, and all in the middle, _her_.

She held a large, smoking, device in her hand and what he could tell from his distance, her face was covered in sensors.

"I said bring him back!" Rose shouted, her voice echoing around the cavernous warehouse.

Words were exchanged that the Doctor couldn't hear. But apparently, they were frustrating to Rose because afterwards she screamed in anguish.

This was not the Rose he wanted to speak with. The Rose with guns and anger and despair, worse than before with the broken Rose. He must've landed before that. This is what caused her to end up in a white room, not remembering anything.

He closed the door.

 ** _iii._**

 ** _13_** ** _th_** ** _September, 2012_**

 ** _25 minutes_**

Another sun, another time in history.

The opening in the universe was closing fast, and he needed to go through each wrong time at a much faster rate if he ever wanted to find _his_ Rose. The Rose without doctors and without an army.

As he walked out of the Tardis he was hit with bright sunshine and the smell of salt in the air. Cars and pedestrians walked right past him and his blue box, just as they always should. But Rose…if Rose was here she would be able to notice him. And if she wasn't the _right_ Rose…

But if she was, he would miss her, just like that, if he hopped back in and took off. He still had more than enough time to tell her goodbye, give her one last hug…maybe even tell her everything.

He shut the door behind him and quickly began to turn, searching the various unfamiliar faces he saw pass by.

Rose had to be there, she brought him there to see _something_. Something about that moment in time meant something to her.

He paced a few steps down the pavement, past the back of the Tardis, still making note of every face he saw. _Not Rose. Not Rose. Not Rose._

Maybe the Tardis had pointed him in the right direction the whole time. The Doctor retraced his steps back to his ship, then began walking in the direction in the front of the doors. _Not Rose. Not Rose. Not Ro—_

"I was completely exonerated," the Doctor heard a faint Socttish accent from his left side. It sounded so familiar and stuck with him in a very, very wrong way.

He turned then, and saw in the distance why he had ended up there. "I came to do whatever the job requires," he saw straight from _his_ mouth. A mouth that copied his, a face that _was_ his. Bearded, aged, wearing a suit, eating a 99, talking with a woman in uniform, _Scottish_. And he, that bloke who looked just like the Doctor, was tied to Rose somehow. But she wasn't there. This moment was important because of _him_. The _double_. The link between _he_ and Rose was so strong, that it brought the Doctor to a place where she wasn't even was.

And he knew what jealousy and dread felt like.

 ** _iv._**

 ** _11_** ** _th_** ** _February 2016_**

 ** _22 minutes_**

Back at his console, he sank down on the floor and stared off blankly at the railing. He didn't know why he felt so betrayed by her. It was her life to live. But yet, he still felt inferior, even to a _human_ , because that human was going to get to do everything he had wanted to do with Rose. That human was allowed to love her.

If he tried again, using a _fourth_ sun, what if he stumbled across _him_ again? What if he saw them _together_? Them together…it meant she had moved on from him. Which is what he had expected her to do, yes, but he didn't want to know, much less know it was with his own _double_.

Maybe, just maybe, she didn't really _love_ the double. Maybe she was only with him because he was the double of _her_ Doctor. Yes. That was it. She was using _him_. She'd never moved on. How could she? He had showed her the stars!

Yes, a fourth sun would have to burn in order for him to hear her speak to _him_ like _he_ was her Doctor. To witness the fact in sheer _pleasure_.

He landed behind a large tree, immediately spotting her blond hair floating in the wind near the water, the Lions Gate Bridge standing tall in the distance.

She and _he_ were the only people he could see far and wide on the pavement, standing side by side just centimetres away from the edge.

Walking along the edge of trees, growing closer, he began to pick up bits and pieces of their conversation.

"—peaceful—hm?" Rose's gentle voice carried.

 _His_ Scottish accent picked up more clearly: "I wish there was this in London, you know?"

"—move—you know—it's not like we're—," she replied.

"Yeah, I know, maybe when we get a bit older, hm?"

The Doctor didn't _quite_ pick up what she said in return, he'd have to admit, but in his imagination it was something along the lines of: "You mean when _I_ get a bit older?"

Ignoring any response from _him_ , the Doctor walked off, his hands in his pockets, feeling rather good about himself because, that was exactly what she would have said to him, back when they were still together.

 ** _v._**

 ** _19_** ** _th_** ** _December 2015_**

 ** _19 minutes_**

He hadn't been able to see her face in Vancouver. He needed to be able to see her face—to make sure she had progressed passed the warehouse and the doctors. Screw _him_ , the next sun he vowed to approach her and tell her to leave _him_. He didn't care if it was selfish, seeing her speaking to _him_ like that, like she was talking to _her D_ octor. At first it had made him feel proud. Proud that she had never moved on. But, now, he was just jealous. Jealous of the fact that that _human_ , _Scottish_ , _bearded_ , _frumpy_ , _bloke_ got to put his hands all over her, and got to speak to her, and he didn't.

Fifth sun. Alpha Centauri System. 200 B.C.

He touched her jacket and concentrated. _I need to see her face. Her real face. Her happy face with a smile. A face where she'd listen. A face where she'd remember._

He grabbed his trench on the way out, expecting it to be snowing, which it was. Of course it would be snowing. It was _Rose_. There was a thick dusting on the grass, and he noticed soon after the snow that he was in front of the Tyler mansion.

Warm lights shined through the clear windows and he could see figures of people moving about.

A grin erupted on his face and rushed across the lawn and the gravel to ascend the steps. Before entering, he adjusted his trench and ran his fingers quickly through his hair. He had to prep himself. What would he say? _'Rose, I can never stay, but I want you to always think of me, and to never, ever, fall in love with any human, because you deserve a Doctor.'_ Pure dead brilliant. And if _he_ was standing nearby, hearing everything? Even _more_ brilliant.

In he stormed, seeing the familiar foyer, but seeing dozens of unfamiliar faces. A few looked up from their flute of champagne and small talk but went right back, apparently uninterested with the man that did not fit in with the black tie dress like the rest of the minglers.

Did everyone think he was _him_? No, that was preposterous. He looked way too good to be confused with _him_ and his depressing hair and sad face.

"Well, I didn't know the Hardy's had another brother!" a voice said from his side. "Did you decide to come?"

The Doctor whirled to look at the speaker, seeing a woman with short curly hair and a kind face. "Who?"

The woman squinted her eyes and tilted her head. "You look so much like…"

He caught the sign in the corner of his eye. Saw it sitting there near the stairs. _The Wedding of Rose Marion Tyler and Alec Michael Hardy, 19_ _th_ _December 2015_ , it read.

"They got married," his breath rushed out all at once and the room seemed to collapse in on itself. "I never…she wouldn't…not with _him_... _no_ ," his voice broke.

By the way the Doctor reacted, the woman grew wary and suspicious, straightening her back. "Oi, who exactly are you, then? Are you a relative?"

"Me?" he dryly laughed. "I don't matter. Give the bride and the groom by best wishes."

As he turned to leave, the woman refused to depart, asking: "Best wishes from whom?"

"The person who doesn't matter," he quickly replied before going back out the door, his trench whipping around his ankles.

 ** _vi._**

 ** _21_** ** _st_** ** _June 2015_**

 ** _17 minutes_**

He banged his fists on his console and kicked the base. He felt it—the permanence the wedding had in their universe. He couldn't do anything to alter it.

Seventeen minutes still left, but he wouldn't need them. She had moved on. She had married _him_. That human, _Alec_ , gave her the domestic life she deserved. They could have their own children, live in a house with a full kitchen and an upstairs, grow old together…

But what _he_ couldn't ever give her though, he remembered, were the stars. And she had loved them more than anything else, including the human. He couldn't change the wedding, no, but he could see her face, one last time, and let her see the stars in him, reminding her of how she was settling. Yes, so she'd never forget the loss of _her_ Doctor. The person who she was meant to be with.

He still needed to tell her goodbye, she deserved that. A remembrance of the stars and a goodbye. The most beautiful mixture in the universe.

After finding another sun to burn, he thudded into another landing.

Darkness was outside, darkness and little dots of warmth littered across the horizon. The wind picked up and then he heard a faint voice. He walked around the back of the Tardis, noting the smell of salt and the dull hum of waves in the air, following the voice.

Two dark figures stood in front of each other, near the edge of the cliff they were all on.

Quieter and nearer than he was in Vancouver, he easily picked up from Rose's voice: "I'd rather not think that he walks parallel with me. Drives a person crazy, I've learned." A shot of pain hit his hearts, realising she was speaking of him. _She hadn't forgotten_. "Do you still feel the same?"

The Doctor smiled fondly and opened his mouth to shout at her, to call her over to him, to say his goodbye, for some reason thinking she was talking to him. But, Alec's voice emerged, making the Doctor stumble back a step, his back hitting the Tardis. "How do you know how I felt before?"

There was a brief pause before Rose answered him. "I knew because of what I told you. And you just did it again. Told me I could find a way back to him."

He what? The human…Alec had told her to never give up on him? Why? Alec loved her, why would he? What was his motive?

"Any friend would tell you the same" was Alec's response.

 _Friend?_ Was this his way of getting women? Quite silly, lying like that.

"Perhaps," the Doctor heard her voice again. "But no friend would be jealous of the Doctor."

His pride swelled and he suppressed a loud chuckle. Alec was jealous of him! Good bloke! He should be! No one else could show Rose the universe like he had! No one else could—

Alec scoffed loudly. "What? I'm not jealous, I've never even met him."

Oh, he would just not stop lying, would he?

"You have no reason to be jealous. Do you know why?"

The Doctor's good vibrations crashed to a sudden stop. No reason to be jealous? How could she undermine him like that? He was magnificent! He was brilliant! He deserved worshipping not dismissal!

Their figures grew even closer together, and the Doctor shook his head. No, why had the telepathic circuit landed him here?! What did Rose want him to see? It was horrible watching them stand closer than he and she ever had before. His blood boiled, and it took all of his might not to flee.

He couldn't hear any response from Alec before she said: "Because for all I know, if I had stayed on the other side, we'd be doing this, right here, right now."

The Doctor let out a shaky and held the sides of his head in his hands. He turned right and left, right and left, suddenly so very confused. _That wasn't true. That couldn't be true_.

"Would you change anything about this?" her _boyfriend_ asked.

He didn't wait for a response. He couldn't. He couldn't hear her 'yes'. He couldn't know that she and _he_ were inevitable in _every_ universe.

On a sheer compulsion, just before stepping into the Tardis, he peaked his head around the blue box. The shadows of their bodies mingled even more than they had before, and they had painted the picture for him perfectly. The Doctor had become no one in the matter of minutes.

 ** _vii._**

 ** _6_** ** _th_** ** _March 2035_**

 ** _10 minutes_**

He needed to face it—being alone. Get used to it. He could never have another companion that wasn't Rose. Rose was his everything, and at that moment in the parallel world she was most likely crying over him. Rose Tyler, crying over the pitiful, selfish Doctor.

Did Alec Hardy the Human help with that? The crying? Did he hold her at night and make sure she'd have no nightmares of the doctors and the warehouse?

Alec married her, he must love her with all of his one heart. He'd have to vow to cherish her—to never let her go.

The Doctor had been bloody rubbish at cherishing her. From her almost dying by the Slitheen, to the Dalek bunker, to the Game Station, to London 1953, to bloody Krop Tor, and then the events in Canary Wharf where he didn't win… _he lost_. He hadn't even mentioned his affairs with Reinette while leaving Rose without a second thought, something he hadn't even felt guilty about till much later when he realised they were…Rose and him had something special. No longer though, she had something special with Alec Hardy, and he didn't quite know if that was okay yet.

He hadn't gotten jealous with Mickey ever, because it was _Mickey_. The Doctor wasn't at all surprised she didn't marry him instead. Alec though, he was jealous of. Rose never settled. He was kidding himself before. She refused to settle with Mickey, she refused to settle on the Game Station, she refused to settle in Canary Wharf. Alec Hardy the Human must be something of the legends. He must be a hero among humanity. He must be pure dead brilliant for Rose Tyler to marry him.

His fingers went back to her jacket, still hooked with the telepathic circuits. He had ten minutes. Ten minutes to say a goodbye, if he wanted. Or to accept defeat. Accept that she was fine. She was—

The cloister bell activated suddenly, ringing with a loud echo. "No no no!" he couldn't help but frustratingly shout, rushing over to his levers and buttons, trying to figure out the problem.

"What? No, it's too early!" His eyebrows furrowed in worry a he soon gathered that the fracture between the universes was now too small for his Tardis to squeeze through, causing the Tardis to shoot back into his universe. He frantically tried to correct it, spinning dials and turning levers, but it was no use. He had overestimated the time he had had, and wasted it by dwelling on the future for Rose instead of the present. What mattered most to him, what he had originally set out to do, was to say goodbye. Instead, he rambled on, investigating her husband, trying to convince himself that she still loved him when he should have known that she would always love him. He, just the same. Neither had said it, but did it need saying?

Maybe there was still a way to get just a message across. Just a simple message saying: 'Goodbye, Rose Tyler.' That was all he wanted now. To bid his time with the ever-so magnificent Rose Tyler. To close the chapter in his life he would never regret opening.

Finding another sun and using the same technique as before, maybe he could cast his image into her universe. Yes, that might work.

A sun billions and billions of years in the future was his focus and with quick calculations, he figured that in just nine minutes, any sort of crack would disappear, making it no longer possible to do what he was doing. He had nine minutes to make it work.

After sticking his hand in the telepathic circuit and focusing on a place where she'd be able to see his face and he'd be able to see hers', his body shimmered into the shadiness of Las Rambla Street. None of the tourists in front, or behind him seemed to notice him, until just a gap in front of him became exposed and her saw her face. Her hair pulled back and sunglasses on, she stopped in her tracks, staring straight at him. She looked utterly breathtaking, and she was. His breathing slowed, _everything_ slowed. Everything in the background was dull and she was _there_. Looking at him! And she recognised him! Her mouth parting in an 'o', a face of confusion. _Yes, Rose, you're right, I'm here. It's me, I'm—_

He appeared joltingly in the Tardis once again, painfully snapped away from her, and he realised he'd have to get her far away from anyone else. A place just for them.

 ** _viii._**

 ** _2_** ** _nd_** ** _October 2027_**

 ** _8 minutes_**

He didn't have time to think about how she had gone to Barcelona without him, and most likely with _him_. He concentrated on finding a more powerful sun (Proxima Centauri System, 400 million A.D.) and chanting inside his head while clutching the circuits: _A place just for the Doctor and Rose, alone_. It needed to not be in 2025 Barcelona, more like 2007 London, just after she had landed in the parallel universe. Still fresh hurt, no numbness, no anger towards him. Pure Rose he once knew.

He draped his trench over the railing, mentally prepping himself for a goodbye. Preparing himself for their tears, for her refusal to let him go. She'd have no idea why she had to stay—why he couldn't bring her back home. She'd soon know though. That was her reward and his punishment. His punishment that dated all back to when his stole the Tardis, unknowing of the pain it would bring ahead of him. The curse of having regenerations. It meant he was always alone. It meant he always had to make sacrifices, and Rose was just the most recent. He was sure he'd make more, he was sure he'd sit all alone over and over and over again, thinking of whom he had just lost. He vowed though, to always think of Rose first when remembering. Rose must always come first, even if the past didn't always show that. That was his promise to her, and he had to let her know of such.

His image faded onto a dull beach he didn't recognise from his past travels, with the sand almost the same colour as the sky. However, there was just a dash of colour in front of him though, of a young girl wearing a bright pink jumper. Her brown hair was back in a messy plait and her eyes were wide in shock.

"Daddy?" she whirled around to search behind her. "Weren't you just over there with mummy?!"

The Doctor couldn't help but softly laugh, knowing this little girl had to be the daughter of Rose and Alec. "No, I'm not your dad," he replied, looking down at the girl with a fond smile on his face.

"Are you Uncle Arthur?" she asked, confused, once she turned back to him.

"Nope," he winked, popping the 'p'.

"You appeared out of nowhere!" Rose's daughter exclaimed in disbelief. "Are you magic or something? Are you a wizard?" She paused and said in a hushed tone: "Are you a _ghost_?"

The Doctor frowned and looked down at himself, seeing that he was very much ghost-like. "Not exactly," he replied.

"Do you want me to get my mummy and daddy? They probably know who you are. You look really familiar."

He shook his head. "I'd like to talk to you, if that's alright."

"Well…" she began, peering around once more. "I think they might've gone back to the car real quick. So I guess. They'll probably be back soon though."

"Alright, I'll make it quick, how about that?"

The girl shrugged and waited for him to continue.

"This is 2027, correct?" he questioned her.

"Aye…" she nodded warily, her thin Scottish accent routed from her father, making the Doctor wince.

"So you're how old now?"

She grinned proudly. "Ten! I'm in fifth year!"

"Really? What's your name?"

"Ross."

"Really? What's that short for?"

Ross scrunched up her nose. " _Rosslyn_."

He scoffed. "Rosslyn's a brilliant name. Your mum did a good job pickin' it."

"Do you know what it means?" she crossed her arms, defiantly.

"What?" he smirked.

"It's Scottish, meaning 'promentary,'" Rose's daughter mispronounced 'promontory.'

"What's wrong with that?"

"It's _boring_! And Rosslyn's too girly!"

"Well, maybe someday you'll grow to like it, hm?"

"Yeah, well I highly doubt it," she huffed.

He looked off to the side for a moment, checking his controls. "I'm about to have to go in a moment, but I have two more questions."

Ross sighed. "Why can't you just talk to my mummy and daddy?"

"Because the timing isn't right, you know?"

She shook her head, but then again, she was only ten.

"Why are you here, wherever we are?"

Her mouth gaped open. "You don't know where we are? How'd you get here if you don't?"

"It's a long story," he chuckled.

"Norway," she rolled her eyes, answering his question. "It's the 20th anniversary, apparently or something like that."

"Anniversary?"

"Yeah, since one of my mum's mates died. She still sometimes gets sad about it," Ross shrugged.

20th anniversary…that would make it 2007…he came here in 2007. He said goodbye to her in 2007. He did it, and he had to do it again. He needed to find that point in time. "Well, thank you Rosslyn…" his voice carried off, waiting for the little girl to give him her full name.

"Oh, Jane Hardy," she finished for him.

"Rosslyn Jane Hardy," he held his hand up to wave goodbye. "You are just as brilliant as your mother, and I hope you keep the name."

 ** _ix._**

 ** _1_** ** _st_** ** _October 2007_**

 ** _5 minutes_**

How did Rose know to go to Norway in 2007? That was the thing the Doctor had to figure out once shimmering back onto his ship. She went to Norway probably specifically to tell him goodbye, so who delivered the message to her?

It would have been easier to find the point in time if he had been able to go all the way through and take some of Ross's DNA. But at least he had a rough date and a rough place. He just needed to connect Rose to Norway.

With the clock ticking down fast, he needed to focus on sending her the message. Where would she hear him? Where would she listen?

If he found one more sun, he could leave just a whisper in one time point, and catapult his image into another. One more sun. And it had to be a good one. A supernova.

The Tardis flew to Arcturus in the Boötes constellation. 8 trillion A.D. The year it burned.

He stuck his fingers in the telepathic circuits and focused. _A Rose who will listen_.

After sonicing his console he whispered the words he thought most important. The words he knew she'd hear. The words he knew she'd know were his.

"Bad Wolf. Norway."

 ** _x._**

 ** _2_** ** _nd_** ** _October 2007_**

 ** _4 minutes_**

His image came into view quickly afterwards onto the same beach he had seen in 2027. But all he saw, all he noticed, was _her_.

All of his past mistakes and journeys had to lead up to the most perfect goodbye in the history of farewells, and he would make it so when she remembered him, when they remembered each other, they never, ever wanted their goodbye to be anything else.

 _"_ _Where are you?"_

* * *

 ** _end_**


End file.
